Giving It My Breast Shot

Walking - or Preferably Running - Through the Fire

2013-12-02T10:37:00.002-08:00

It goes without saying that my friends are the best a girl could ever ask for. All of you lift me up, push me to keep going and keep my spirits bright.

My latest tumour called a schwannoma, which is benign, thank goodness, presents challenges I didn't think I'd ever have to face. After meeting with Dr. Bristol, my sixth surgeon, it reminded me of meeting with Dr. Creedon, who performed my mastectomy in 2011. When Dr. Creedon uttered the words "triple negative breast cancer" and explained how horrible that was, I went blank for a minute or two, the room went white and everything just paused. TeeTee took a deep breath, sat back in her chair so I wouldn't see her pale face and teary eyes and rubbed my back. Well, it was a similar feeling when Dr. Bristol said, "You have to be prepared for the possibility you may never run again." I cried, Susie sighed heavily and rubbed my back.

Dr. Bristol went on to discuss the options. If I leave the tumour in, it will continue to cause me 24-hour-a-day pain, the tumour will grow and some day could rupture the sciatic nerve which is the worst thing, as repair would be impossible. The only way to be sure if it's a good idea to have the surgery is to have the surgery. He will do his best to not have to "sacrifice anything important" so I don't end up with drop foot and a variety of other mobility impairment issues. But until he goes in, he can't say for sure. Susie reminded me I've not complained much throughout all my medical problems but this pain I mention frequently. So after lengthy discussion with the surgeon, it was decided we will go ahead with the procedure. I'm on a cancellation list but the soonest the surgery will happen without a cancellation is about March. He then went on to suggest that since I want to run my first half-marathon and since running can't injure my leg further, grow the tumour or rupture the nerve, that perhaps I'd like to wait for the surgery until after the run so in the event I can never run again after the surgery, I will at least have attained that milestone I've worked towards.

He then dropped a bombshell. He has to give me all the possibilities, of course, I get that, but he actually said it's happened before, only once in his career, that although the biopsy showed the tumour to be benign, sometimes once they surgically remove and actually send the tumour for biopsy, it comes back malignant. This would require removal of the entire nerve and would be, well, unthinkable. So we just won't go there and hope that the original diagnosis is correct.

I have been very upset by this latest news, saying things like, "While I don't need my breasts anymore, I kind of need my legs." I've thought about all this information over the weekend and have decided to get the surgery done as soon as possible. Leanne said she'll push me in a wheelchair in the half-marathon, if necessary, or we will just set our sights on the Fall Classic once I'm healed and re-trained. So damn it all, I'm going to forge ahead and get 'er done. My leg has been quite tender from the needle biopsy and was aggravated by Dr. Bristol's tapping on the tumour on Friday but I have decided to ignore that and get my runners on! Leanne and I are running tomorrow morning whether my leg likes it or not. I'm not sure how far we'll get but it will feel so good to try.

Most people say "one day at a time" but I'm changing that to literally "one step at a time" for as long as these legs will carry me.

Reality Check...Mixed with Some Girl Time

2013-11-10T18:39:00.000-08:00

Talk about returning to reality. I had three messages: one from the hospital setting an MRI, one from the surgeon's office arranging an appointment, one from my oncologist's office to do a once-over, one appointment per day for the first three days back.

I went to VGH for the MRI and early the next morning went to see the surgeon, Dr. Clarkson, who is the only one in all of B.C. who deals with "cancers of the knee", a pretty specific area. After meeting with the surgeon, it was determined I would need a needle biopsy and he would schedule it for as soon as possible. He said once it's determined to be benign or malignant (choke), they will know which surgeon to send me to so it can be removed. My oncologist suggested that the good breast should come off sooner rather than later so about a month after my knee surgery, I'll deal with the mastectomy.

Susie and I went to Seattle overnight to send Carrisa on an early-morning flight to see Tyler, which created an opportunity for some fun. After seeing Carrisa off at the airport, Susie and I shopped our way north, stopping for lunch and dinner on the way. It was a long day filled with so much fun!

Susie stayed the night and took me to the needle biopsy at VGH and it was the single most painful thing I've endured to date. I screamed and cried and when they said they needed another sample, I screamed and cried some more. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain but I hung on. Once it was over, my lower leg was completely numb and I was so dizzy from the drugs that I had to be pushed in a wheelchair to the car. I came home, ate a White Spot Triple-O and milkshake, which is what I was craving. Susie told me this is because I'm a true Canadian girl! With a full tummy, I passed out and slept for a few hours. I apologize to any of you I may have telephoned while stoned - no memory whatsoever so I hope it was coherent or at least good for a laugh. It was a rough night but I am taking it easy this weekend. In about a week's time, I should get the biopsy results (please be benign) and then the appropriate surgery will be scheduled as soon as possible.

Cruising Along...

2013-11-10T18:27:00.000-08:00

My parents and I flew to San Francisco and picked up my wonderful Aunt Jeanne and hilarious cousin, Sharon. This was a birthday gift for me and was my first cruise. We boarded the Grand Princess and sailed down the Cali coast into Mexico and back. It was a trip to remember: the laughs, the love and the antics will be with me forever.

Back Row: Sharon (my beautiful cousin), me, Dad
Front Row: Mom, Aunt Jeanne (Dad's sweet sister)

Turkey Trot

2013-11-10T18:21:00.000-08:00

After some more training, I noticed my right knee was sore and figured I'd stretched my IT band from overuse. With three days before my first 10K in over two years, I was determined to rehab my knee well enough to get through the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Monday. I used Voltaren and started taking glucosamine for joints. With the weight loss (45 pounds) and turning on my after-burners, I knew this was the problem.

In the Turkey Trot, I ran the first 3K and all the uphill was great but when I got to the top of the Burrard Street Bridge and starting the descent, my knee had other plans. Yup, IT band for sure. I walked and limped the final 7K but was again proud when I hit the finish line. Leanne came back for me and we crossed together but Carrisa was limping as well, as this was her first ever 10K run.

A New Tumour? Uh-oh.

2013-11-10T18:17:00.001-08:00

Sure it was a Baker's cyst, I reported the lump on the back of my knee to my GP and he sent me for an ultrasound. Talk about déjà vu. The technician indicated she would bring in the radiologist and I told her, "I'm outta here. The last time that happened it was to tell me I had a tumour and it was malignant." She said, "Don't worry. I'll be right back." I started to cry. I didn't cry the first time, as I knew in my heart it was cancer, but this really upset me. The radiologist had a look at the screen and said, "I'm so sorry but it is a tumour." I choked back my anguish and said, "That's a word I never wanted to hear again." She assured me she's almost positive it's benign by the look and shape but the size is a worry, as it's 2.5 centimetres already. She showed me the image and indicated it's inside the sciatic nerve itself and that's why I'm feeling it in my hamstring. I left and went to my parents' place and bawled. I really lost it. I guess it was time.

I was contacted by a specialist the next day who said he really thinks it's benign and is called a schwannoma. These are benign 99% of the time. I told him my luck hasn't been so great with diagnoses in the past so I hope I'm not that 1%. My biggest concern isn't so much that it's cancer because I truly don't believe it is, rather that my mobility may be impaired by surgery. I will have to be cut through the leg and through the nerve to have the tumour removed in its entirety.

I don't need my breasts anymore, although I was quite fond of them, but I sure need my legs. I was assured I couldn't injure my leg or nerve nor spread the tumour so I continued with my running.

Taking Back My Health and Love of Running!

2013-11-10T18:15:00.000-08:00

I have been busy losing the "chemo weight" and exercising. My eyes were always on the prize of running my first half-marathon, something I had planned to do just two months post-diagnosis. Of course, everything came to a screeching halt for two-plus years. I love running and my sweet friend, Leanne, has been my coach.

Once I was able to run more than a block or two, we entered into the Terry Fox Run with her daughter, Carrisa. The day before the run I noticed a lump in the back of my left knee but it didn't hurt so I ran the 5K (well, walked as much as ran) and was very overwhelmed at the end of the run with mixed feelings of accomplishment, my girls, of what Terry Fox has done, of Connor, Angie and Judy, all who were taken too soon, my Gram, my friends battling, just everything.

That was so much fun, the three of us then went on to do the 5K obstacle course/run called Woman2Warrior and dressed in pink tutus, headbands and fairy wings. This was for Easter Seals to send disabled children to camp. Great cause and a blast of an event!

Mutated Gene

2013-11-10T18:03:00.000-08:00

Just when you think you're done...the beast of a disease called cancer has other plans.

I am thankful to continue to be cancer-free some two years from first detecting the tumour in my breast. I was offered to go into the Hereditary Program and it turns out I do carry a mutated BRCA2 gene. I thought this sounded really technical but the BR stands for "breast" and the CA stands for "cancer". Angelina Jolie has a mutated BRCA1 gene and we all know she was proactive and had a double mastectomy. It is suspected my darling Gram, who lived to be 90, actually had ovarian cancer at the end of her life, although it wasn't emphatically mentioned in her medical records. As a result of the mutation, I have had a bilateral oophorectomy, which means I've had my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. They were biopsied and found to be cancer-free. My uterus was removed in 2007 so that was already gone. As a bonus, my surgeon indicated I could look forward to a Fu Manchu, a lovely moustache and beard combo. Bring on the laser, I say!

The toughest part of finding out about the mutated gene is that each of my two beautiful daughters (27 and 19) have a 50/50 chance of carrying either a healthy gene or the mutated one. This doesn't diminish with the following generations so I pray neither carry the gene and it ends with me. Like any mother, I would give my life to keep them both safe from this disease. My mother has recently tested positive so she has to face the same "lower bits" surgery soon. Due to her age, she has opted to monitor her breasts bi-annually. Thankfully, my female cousins on my mother's side tested negative - such a relief.

Going forward, I will have my right breast removed. Although I don't relish the thought of another mastectomy, I'm hopeful this will go much smoother, as there's not a tumour to worry about, no chemotherapy and no radiation. My thought is that I will have both the removing surgeon and the implanting surgeon in the operating room at the same time so they can remove both (my "bag" needs adjusting anyway) and just implant both sides at the same time. I'm thinking smaller than Dolly Parton but larger than Kate Hudson. I will no longer have any sensation and won't be able to use the line, "I have one stiff nipple," when it's chilly outside but they will at least match. I will think up something as tattoos later. I was going to go with the maple leaf on one and a beaver on the other (oh, the jokes) but may rethink both. Suggestions?

My Final Blog Post - Thanks for Reading!

2012-12-06T21:50:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened in the past few months so thought it was time to update my blog.

I am one minor procedure away from having a new silhouette, perkier than before, but bearing the scars of a war. While I am very happy to be able to wear a bra and clothes and even a sports bra to run in come the new year, I suppose I will always grieve for the original breasts I no longer have. One is, as my surgeon put it, "18 forever", and the other, although surgically lifted, will age with time. As he said, "They're sisters, not twins." I don't think they every truly matched anyway. It just reiterates the saying, "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."

I'm so thankful to have come through cancer-free with the love and support of so many friends and family so I will continue to look to the positive side of all of this. I'm alive. Those who love me no longer have to take me to appointments and hold my hand through each fear-filled moment.

Now, as I look forward, I will focus on a healthy, fitness-filled, get-back-into-shape new year. I will also look forward to working again to have some sort of normalcy to everyday life. To wake up with a purpose other than doctor's appointments, surgical procedures or cancer treatments is something I am getting used to and really appreciating. Being able to change my sheets or scrub my bathtub without assistance or even grocery shop on my own are further signs of life returning to "before cancer". While I still think of life in those terms, "before" and "after", I am determined not to have this past 16 months identify me. It will always just be a chapter in my story like so many others.

I have rekindled old friendships, made new ones and rejoiced in my current ones. My friends have become friends with each other and this makes my heart happy. We are An incredibly strong group of women (with a few of their husbands and children sprinkled in for good measure) who have supported each other through so many things over the past couple of years that it's hard to imagine my life without any one of them.

No more cancer, no more worries about cancer, no more blogs. So to you, my cherished friends and family, it's time to move forward into the new year with good health, happiness and a whole lot of fun!

Merry Christmas and a very Happy and Healthy 2013 - CHEERS!

I'm Hot...and Flaky!

2012-07-05T15:49:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog in a while. I have just completed five weeks of rather large doses daily radiation. I've been saying all along, if I can get through chemotherapy I can manage radiation with no problem. Well, as I sit here for the second day with what is referred to as "wet peeling", I realize how bad radiation truly affects a body. My "burn" extends from the centre of my chest and wraps around under my arm to my back. It goes from just above my breast to about an inch below. So it's a large perfectly square area and as the radiation burns from the inside out, the next week or so should be even worse. Then it's supposed to get better from there. I have July "off" from treatments for this process to complete and to recover some energy. I think August will be for my skin to ready itself for more surgery. It's rather ironic that the weather has finally turned nice and I'm not allowed in the sun for fear of "chemical burn" of my skin. Since I love the sun and the outdoors, this is a pretty cruel reality.

Last night, I actually stood in the shower and cried as the water ran over my chest and felt like a thousand pieces of sharp glass cutting the skin from my breast area. My underarm feels like there's a large marble lodged under the skin but it's just a lump of skin waiting to disengage. Yuck! I was very grateful for Ethel coming over for a (gentle) hug and to comfort me.

I'm now applying a prescription antibiotic cream three times daily to avoid the possibility of infection. That would just be awful and would set back my recovery time so I'll do my best so that doesn't happen.

Thank you to everyone for your kind wishes of help and for your prayers.

Spring Has Sprung...And So Has My New Breast!

2012-05-03T12:46:00.004-07:00

After finishing my chemotherapy, something which I would not wish on anyone, I have continued to show signs of recovery from the chemicals. While my moustache and beard are doing well, I could use a bikini wax and need to shave my legs, it's a little slower growth on my head. My hairdresser, Michelle, refers to my new style as a "cul-de-sac"; you know the ring around the head with a bald top. My heels are starting to heal from all the peeling which was very painful so I'm thankful for that. If I knew how to walk on my hands that would have come in very handy during that phase. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to lose the nail on my left big toe. If that's the only nail I lose, however, that will be great. The ice gloves on my hands made all the difference and I am able to wear nail polish again. Today's shade is "spring mauve". My skin is continuing to break out but I guess that's all the poison seeping out so it's a good thing. Everything tastes normal now and I'm loving coffee, fruits, veggies and water - tons of water.

I have had the port surgically removed from the right side of my chest and am just waiting for the sealing glue strip to come off. The surgeon actually cut into the same place as when they inserted it so there's only one scar from those procedures. Now when I turn my head it doesn't feel like I'm going to disconnect a wire from the carotid artery in my neck. Such a relief!

I've also had surgery to insert a tissue expander. This was put into the hole where my left breast used to live. Again, the surgeon was able to use the same incision point used for my mastectomy so one scar there as well. My job now is to massage this area at least twice a day to move the saline from the top of my expander to the bottom where the permanent implant will go. Today I went for a procedure and now have what would rival Arnold Schwarzenegger's pec. Gives new meaning to the term "pump it up"! My left breast is now situated close to my shoulder. My right breast is much lower, of course, due to age and gravity so trying to find a bra to fit that is just not happening. To pump up the expander, I was directed to lie on my back while the surgeon used a magnetic gizmo to locate the internal port, bring it to the surface and then put a needle through my skin. He pumped in as much saline as my expander would take and that was it. No pain, just pressure. When I sat up, I could feel it all shifting and that was trippy. I thought it was going to squirt out but I guess he knows what he's doing. That area is apparently self-sealing. I asked him how that works and he said, "It's magic." Finally, a medical term I can understand!

Yesterday I saw the radiation oncologist who said once the pumping up is done she will schedule a "marking session". I will lie on a bed and get some blue marks tattooed on my body where the lining up will occur each session. TeeTee told the doctor she'd been trying to convince me to get a tattoo forever. They will remove them after radiation if I want them to. Then there was a discussion about a patient who expanded her blue dots into a bee and flower. Not sure that's going to happen but I've learned through this process to not make quick decisions. Once the marking has been done, I'll be given a schedule for five weeks of daily radiation therapy (excluding weekends). Turns out she's my favourite doctor throughout this ordeal because she said I could actually have some alcohol during this portion of therapy. So tonight, it's Bellini time with some girlfriends! I should be a cheap date for sure.

Overall, I'm feeling pretty good. My ongoing challenge is brain power. I find my concentration is lacking and my recall pretty bad. My emotions are all over the map but that's more to do with my personal life than my chemo brain. I've said all along that the cancer may not kill me but my shattered heart just might. I try to stay strong and positive every day, which is easier said than done, hoping for a brighter future with repaired relationships.

So onward and upward (well except my boob which needs a little downward movement). To say thank you to all my friends who have supported me through this journey seems somehow inadequate. You have all been amazing, consistent, loving, understanding and available. So tonight some of us will raise a toast to a happier, healthier future.

I Am Officially Cancer-Free - Music To My Ears

2012-03-01T09:23:00.000-08:00

No More Chemotherapy - Next Stop is Radiation Therapy and Reconstructive Surgery

Tuesday was my last chemotherapy and I am so relieved that step is behind me. I cried from relief as I left the chemo room and one of the nurses hugged me and I cried some more, thanked her and all the chemo nurses for saving my life and being so kind and patient throughout that part of my journey. Nurses are truly unique as they possess the same qualities as angels. TeeTee and I hugged each other tightly and I thanked her for once again being by my side. Knowing there is no further curative chemotherapy for me should my breast cancer metastasize, which is why I was hit with such big doses over such a concentrated period of time, I am determined not to live the rest of my life worrying about spread or recurrence. The doctors and I are doing everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen. Last night marked the end of the chemo drugs and I had stomach injection number 11 out of 15. So many milestones are being shot down and I'm very happy about that.

What I face next is reconstructive surgery. This starts with a day surgery procedure on March 30th to insert a tissue expander, which is a fancy term for an empty bag, into the hole in my chest where my breast used to be. Inside the expander is a port. The surgeon will use a magnet from the outside of my breast to locate the port, it will come to the surface and it will be injected with saline through my skin and into the empty bag which will slowly stretch my skin. Once that first step is completed, I will be able to have my original port surgically removed, the one that fed the chemotherapy into my system, and hopefully will be used for the expander surgery as well so as to avoid the anesthetist's needle going through my hand.

About six weeks after the expander is inserted, and after I heal from the surgery, I will start five weeks of daily radiation therapy (excluding weekends). This will help to lower the chance of the cancer returning to the original tumour site in my chest wall in the future, just as chemotherapy has lowered the chance of spread to other organs. The numbers were explained to me to be less than a 5% chance of return to the chest wall post-radiation therapy and a 24.5% chance of spread to other organs post-chemotherapy.

In approximately six months, after radiation and weekly saline injections to stretch my skin slowly, then the permanent implant is inserted, followed of course by recovery and healing time. This will mean I will have the ability to wear normal bras and clothes rather than a prosthetic and all the complications and inconvenience that would involve. I was warned it will be a fairly painful journey but the outcome will be worth it for the rest of my life.

The doctors are hopeful, as am I, that I may regain my concentration and be fully recovered from the chemotherapy by September. It may take an additional three months or so to recover from the radiation and reconstructive surgery. I can't wait to get back to normal life, work and exercising but I know I need to continue to be patient, which has always been a challenge for me. In the meantime, I will carry on, one day at a time, hopeful that everything will go well and I will heal and get stronger every day.

I still pinch myself when I think of all the support I have received and continue to receive from so many people. It will take me the rest of my life to pay you all back...but I plan to be here for a really long time so I'll get 'er done!

I Love You

Zero - The Number of Chemotherapy Sessions Left!

The Final Time Exiting the Chemotherapy Room!

Finally...some brief relief

2012-02-06T14:19:00.000-08:00

I have started my second round of drugs called Docetaxel, which, unlike the previous round of drugs, does not cause nausea and I no longer smell dead people. Instead, this drug provides side effects related to nerve pain. For about four or five days of the first dose I experienced pain in my low back. It felt as if I could crack my back it would feel better but of course no cracking occurred. Then there were shooting pains down my legs into the tips of my toes that eventually made it feel as though I were walking on bruises and broken glass. I knew I should have learned to walk on my hands when I had the chance.

The past two days I've had enough relief that I was able to go for a couple of walks, meet Lori for coffee (and sinful red velvet loaf with icing), as well as to run some errands with Ethel. It was so nice to get out. The furthest I'd managed before was my deck for tea. Not quite the same thing.

The other side effect of this drug is that a lot of food does not taste the way it's supposed to. For instance, popcorn tasted like paper - what a disappointment that was! The past few days things have tasted so good I think I've gained ten pounds. Fitness will definitely be a priority when this is done.

I went for my blood work this morning and it was confirmed my counts were high enough to undergo my next round of chemotherapy tomorrow. Then I start the every-other-day stomach injections and the gross coated mouth and nerve pain will start all over again. The oncologist and TeeTee tried to get me to agree to taking more drugs for the pain but I've decided to try to cope on my own as I just feel overdosed on drugs and would rather not take any more. If the pain becomes too intense, of course, I'll soften my decision.

After the oncologist's appointment, TeeTee and I met the wonderful (and not-so-bald) Taylor and beautiful Susie for breakfast. We laughed a lot and really enjoyed being together.

I feel so blessed to have the friends I do who are willing to help me through each day. From those who just check in regularly through emails and phone calls, to those who visit and bring food and other necessities, to those who help clean my place when I just can't, to those who hold my hand through each appointment so I'm never alone, to those who are actually willing to inject my stomach so I don't have to risk getting germs from a clinic, I'm not sure "thank you" is enough but I couldn't do it without you. Today, my dear friend, Susie, gave me some of her artwork which is absolutely incredibly beautiful. I will hang one picture in my bedroom so it's the first thing I see when I awake in the morning. I will post a photo of them once I figure out how to take a picture with my phone camera and transfer to my computer. Chemo brain is challenging!

Next week I have an appointment with a radiology oncologist to see if I would benefit from radiation therapy. I try not to look too far ahead as it can be very overwhelming. One day at a time is best. And with all your love and support I will make it through.

Nine Weeks Down, Nine Weeks To Go

2012-01-16T22:34:00.000-08:00

Deep breath as I head into the second round of chemotherapy tomorrow. I am done my "F-E-C" drugs and am heading into one called Docetaxel. It's a more powerful chemical with side effects ranging from loss of eyebrows and lashes, fingernails and toenails (disgusting), to nerve and muscle pain. There is a slight chance for nausea but I'm talking myself out of that for sure. Then there's the ice gloves that I'll be using to try and save my fingernails. Apparently they're quite painful as they're so cold but I'll do my best. The next day I will have injected into my stomach a drug called Neupogen to try and avoid fever and infection. You see, my body will actually try to kill itself and there is a real risk to end up in hospital with a blood infection called sepsis, which can be fatal. These injections will be administered every second day for ten days in each of the three rounds for a total of 15 injections. As I am such a needle phobe, I have made arrangements for a friend who is a nurse to give me these injections. I definitely won't be watching! My good friend, Lori, is going to learn how to give them to me as a back-up. How do you actually pay someone back for that?

Today I went for blood work and my counts were low so I have to be re-checked early in the morning before chemo to make sure my system can take the full dosage. Then I saw the oncologist who asked how the last round went and reminded me of the possible horrors of the next round. I told him I vomited, had about a week's worth of diarrhea and other messy things. He is amazingly honest and straightforward which is what I wanted. TeeTee went with me and we decided it was a Happy Dance Day, as the ultrasound I had last week shows no signs of spread to my liver (she was right - apparently the two spots were just fruit flies), pancreas, stomach, spleen and kidneys. As there was never an indication of spread in my lymph system, this is all good news. He sent a requisition today to a radiation oncologist for a consult to discuss with me the possibility of radiating my chest wall behind the site of my mastectomy. Apparently there are risks for other health complications so I will have to weigh the pros and cons when the time comes.

The Docetaxel does damage to the heart muscle but I decided to continue with the chemotherapy and hope to prevent spread of the breast cancer in the future. Therefore, the dilemma becomes which would I rather endure - the possibility that cancer will re-occur or possibly die of a heart ailment brought on by the very drug that is supposed to save my life? Since I only have one shot at chemotherapy in my lifetime due to the toxicity of the chemicals, I decided to go ahead and see it through. If there's spread in the future, maybe there will be something further the scientists will come up with in the meantime. If not, it'll just be a matter of time. If I don't go ahead with it, the chance of spread is doubled, from 24.5% to 49.5%. So I'll go with the approximately 75% chance it won't spread and will resume workouts to strengthen my heart muscle through exercise and just try not to think about all this freaky stuff once I'm done my chemo.

I am now looking to life after cancer treatments, as opposed to the endlessly long road ahead I was staring at nine weeks ago. After tomorrow, I'll have only two treatments left and will truly rejoice when it's over. If I go through radiation, of course, I won't be back to working out for a while longer but that's okay. Since I type for a living, due to my loss of concentration, the left arm damage left by the lymph node extraction and possibility of damage to the nerves in the ends of my fingers from the Docetaxel, my oncologist basically said I may be able to consider a return to work in August or September. My goal is to get my physical self back into shape over the summer so I'm really ready to be back into feeling stronger before working. Then I'll only have to concentrate on concentrating and hopefully all the side effects will have worn off completely.

Of course, I'd way rather spend the summer in Italy, as dreamed of for years. That's not up to me, however, but I would welcome the opportunity with open arms and a happy, albeit somewhat diminished, heart! I can dream, right? In the words of Justin Bieber, "Never Say Never - I Will Fight Till Forever".

So all my dear friends, here we go again. I have TeeTee taking me tomorrow, Tracey coming by after work with supplies and Ethel sleeping over. Then the needle teach class with Lori on Wednesday and so on. You are all amazing to be at my side this entire time. Without doubt, you all are playing a hand in saving my life...in so many ways. I love you all more than words can ever express.

A Night to Remember

2011-12-15T12:14:00.000-08:00

Trying to keep me as stress-free as possible, my friends rallied together to throw a fundraiser for me to help me through the financial reality of my situation. I am self-employed and, therefore, unemployed so they took up the cause of keeping me independent and comfortable in my world, near them and my cancer clinic. Words cannot describe the feeling I had throughout the night as one by one people came up to me to share stories of how they've been touched by cancer, who they were related to or friends with and how they just came to uplift and support me. There was a huge turnout and I think half were complete strangers to me at the beginning of the night. By the time the night was done, however, each and every one of their faces will remain forever etched in my memory bank.

TeeTee was definitely at the helm, making sure everything ran smoothly. I could see she was frazzled at times and certainly run off her feet most of the night. But she didn't quit. She never does. She held everything together and really put on a great event. She didn't do it completely alone, of course, and I saw Lori and her husband, Rick, selling 50/50 tickets. There were young people there helping them as well. I know a lot of others chipped in to help make this event successful on the night. The people I know helped (and I'm sorry if I've missed you) are Sabrina (aka Ethel) for making beautiful tickets and helping on the night, Catherine, Taylor, Amber and Kayla who all sold raffle tickets, spiky head sticks and handed out prizes, as well as Michelle and Don (aka Heather and Dave from Boobapalooza in Whistler) who sold silent auction tickets. It was definitely a team effort captained by the enthusiastic TeeTee.

Then there were those who shaved their heads to raise funds and make me feel like there were other baldies so I wouldn't be alone. Leanne went first. She sat beside me and we held hands while our beautiful friend and mutual hairdresser, Michelle, shaved her head in the virtual darkness of the pub. There were only flashing coloured disco lights to work under but Michelle rose to the occasion. As tears flowed down Leanne's face, I looked out into the crowd and saw her daughter, Carrisa, was crying as well. Her husband, Doug, was filming the event and seemed pretty pleased with how beautiful his wife looked bald. She is very pretty with hair but there's something about a woman who can pull off the bald look. This was a very emotional evening for Leanne, as it's close to the six-year anniversary of the passing of her dear friend, "Miss Yvonne", from the same disease I'm battling. I could feel the pain, love and loss through Leanne and my heart broke for her. I was very touched by her gesture. She also managed to raise a lot of pledges as a bonus.

Next was my cousin's husband, Nigel. Liane and Nigel travelled from the Island just so they could be part of my night. They stayed in the local hotel in town and we had an opportunity to visit before, during and after the fundraiser. Nigel is one year clear from his battle with and victory over stomach cancer. I had gone to the Island to run with him for the first time post-treatment and was honoured to spend that special time with him. He said he'd come to run with me when I'm ready. In the meantime, he showed his support not only by attending but by shaving his hair. While he didn't have a lot of hair, it was powerful for me that he would shave his hair after just growing it back in from his bout with chemotherapy. He and Liane have been extremely supportive throughout my battle, offering experience and love.

Then it was time for the youngest supporter, Taylor. She is TeeTee's almost-20-year-old daughter. She had beautiful hair. I know most young women would never consider shaving their heads as hair identifies a young woman's look. Not Taylor. What identifies Taylor is her beautiful outlook on life. She is wise beyond her years and would never hesitate to give anything she could to make someone else's life a little easier. Like mother like daughter. I've known Taylor her whole life and while she always surprises me with her maturity as well as her goofy humour, I've never felt so bonded to her than in that moment as she had her friends shave strips of hair from her head. She also raised a lot of pledges for my benefit. Her friends are young and very generous. A couple of her friends went out of their way to introduce themselves to me and I realized how incredibly generous and kind they are.

Last but not least was Mark. He is the husband of my friend, Susie. I met Mark only a couple of years ago but I have known Susie forever. Susie and I met on the Seabus on our way to work one day and have been friends ever since. During Mark's head shaving one of the songs I love to bop to was playing and I got my second wind. I was holding his hand like all the others while they lost their hair and the music gave me energy. I was singing and dancing while seated and that was really fun. The young girls there were laughing at me and recording me so I'm thinking I could be a You Tube sensation that goes viral. Mark told me Susie would banish him to the guest room till his hair grew back (and of course I offered him a warm blanket) but once she saw him hairless, she quite liked it so I think it's all good.

Paul was our deejay and really did a great job. He had everyone dancing and laughing all night. He was very sweet and said he'd do anything he could to help me. The pub made a generous donation to the cause as well and made the night very special overall. Steve, the owner, said he was happy to support me. Wow.

There were raffle prizes and many creative ways to raise money to help me. While I was completely humbled and thankful for the financial assistance, it was the outpouring of love from friends, family and complete strangers that overwhelmed and overjoyed me. It truly was a night to remember.

Jane, Liane, Nigel (with hair) and me

Jenn and her mom

Beautiful Susie

Great Friends Eric and Joan

Michelle (aka Heather) and Christine - "Bosom Buddies"

Mike and me

Me with TeeTee

Deejay Paul, me and Lori (in our survivor scarves)

Leanne being shaved by Michelle

Amber cutting Taylor's ponytail off!

Nigel having his head shaved by Michelle

Mark, Nigel, Steve (pub owner), me, Leanne and Taylor

Rejoicing in Our Baldness!

In The Presence Of True Love

2011-12-01T10:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a day to remember forever. It was the first day I woke up without a headache and I was bursting with energy. My day got off to a great start with a visit from my friend, Holly, who brought me a London Fog tea, lovely soap and lotion, together with generous donations for my fundraiser. When she left, I rested for a bit as I was looking forward to a great afternoon with more amazing friends.

My buddy, Erin, had invited me to join her family on a visit out to UBC where she was having a science fair. I haven't seen Erin since August and have really missed her smile, energy and love. Little did I know I was in for a lesson in true love. As Mike, Nadine, Nadine's mom, Sheila, and I all headed to Vancouver for our time with Erin, including meeting her teachers, boss/friend and other friends in class, I could tell it was going to be a special day.

Mike and I sat in the middle row of my van, which Nadine drove, and Sheila rode shotgun. There was a lot of laughter, as always, when we get together but there was something underlying all that cheer. There was an unspoken love among us all. Nadine and I have a solid, caring, loving friendship. I adore her mom and she treats me with the utmost of respect and kindness. I've pretty much always just had a friendship with Mike more like "he's my friend's husband" but since we've both been diagnosed with scary things (he has ALS) I feel our friendship has evolved. We share things about our illnesses and have a sort of understanding between us. I have maintained all along I'm so lucky to have the possibility of a cure and I only wish I could share my chemo with Mike and it would make him better.

The silent love that was felt with tremendous force was the love between Mike and Nadine. She helped him on and off with his sweater, almost like a mother helps a child who just can't do it, but with obvious respect and patience for her husband. She made sure he had a drink when he was dry. She even sacrificed her lipstick so he could make a correction on the men's bathroom wall. It was difficult to see Mike try to shake hands with people who didn't understand his limitations but he was very gracious with everyone. He shared with me how his emotions are basically out of his control. I assured him he's just getting in touch with his feminine side. Another laugh with an undertone of reality that's just too sad. Since Mike and I agree it's better to laugh than to cry, that's what we do. We deal with everything with sarcasm and humour while understanding the truth of the gravity of our illnesses. Nadine always handles situations with endless grace and concern for others and never have I seen her more composed and "in the moment". Her focus was making sure Mike was okay every minute while still taking in the praise all of "Erin's people" had for her. I was bursting with pride for Erin as though she were my own daughter so I can only imagine what her family was thinking. I don't think it's anything new for any of us to see her be successful and cherished but to hear it from her professors, advisors, fellow students, boss and friends was amazing. She is a great young woman who is going to be one awesome teacher. Children and their parents will be lining up to request to be in her class for sure.

Nadine and I also talked about how some people say things to us that we don't understand. We get that they're meaning well and think they're showing concern but when we're tired, we don't need to be told we look tired. That doesn't help. There are people who always look at us with "those eyes", the doe-like ones that we know mean they care but show sadness and confirm we are dealing with situations that are completely out of our control. As much as we need your support and love, we can't handle pity or despair. We both deal with these comments by diverting the subject. We have learned to do that very well. We can discuss how tired we are or how distraught in private, not in the middle of a mall or during a fitness class.

It was great to see where Erin lives so I can picture in my mind where she is when we are on Facebook. Mike, Nadine and Sheila all brought her groceries and other things she requested, like a family would to support family in university. Erin shared some of her Halloween stash with us...mmm...Reese's pieces.

We went off to her science fair to check out her project, which was impressive. We dropped her off with all her gear and looked for a parking spot. This was an adventure. I realized too late that Nadine was driving down the wrong side of a boulevard and then realized it wasn't even a road but a "pedestrian area". Not sure how many tickets or points that would have garnered but it explained why there were no other vehicles on the path. After driving around in circles and backing out of dead-ends, we spotted parking about a half-block from where we started. There's a running joke about Mike's driving into a soccer parking lot in years gone by, on two wheels and going way too fast because his daughter was a little late. Mike really enjoyed heckling Nadine for all her wrong-way driving on sidewalks. That was hilarious!

After a wonderful visit, we headed home. The drive back was just as funny as the trip there. I will always cherish that afternoon and look forward to spending as much time with the Sands family as possible. It is my great honour to call them my friends, or as Erin kept assuring people, "she's family". That's how they make me feel, like family. They have all loved me through so much already and we will go forward loving each other through all of lives' ups and downs...just like a family should.

From back to front: Sheila, Mike, me, Erin and Nadine

On MY Terms

2011-11-24T15:10:00.000-08:00

When I was given my first chemotherapy treatment, along with a zillion other pieces of information about the side effects, I was told that I would for sure, 100% guaranteed, lose my hair on the 14th day after being flooded with these chemicals. There's not a similar assurance about losing other body hair but definitely the hair on my head. While being bald never bothered me much, comforted in the knowledge I may be rewarded with the re-growth being curly or red or something different, the fact that I could wake up to clumps or my whole hair mass on my white pillowcase or the fact that I could wash my hair and have a big chunk in my hand freaked me out. Neither of those options appealed to me in the least so after waking up a few nights in a row, turning on the lamp to check my pillowcase, I decided I wanted to be proactive in this one matter.

Having cancer makes me feel very vulnerable and quite helpless when it comes to my care. I had to accept the fact I had to undergo a mastectomy, port insertion surgery, invasive tests and now chemotherapy. I have to accept that I even have cancer and that I can't do all the things I want to do. But I don't have to wait anxiously for the day my hair falls out. So I decided to gather some friends and invite my hairdresser, Michelle, who is also a friend, to my place for a head-shaving event.

Michelle arrived in her apron, ready for action. She squeezed me between two clients and I so appreciated her coming to me. Michelle is one of those people we all wish we could be more like. She is kind, caring, sweet, funny and very straight-to-the-point honest. She's like a breath of fresh air in my life and I have come to love her over the years. I first met her when my oldest daughter was to graduate high school. She did an amazing job and has been my hairdresser ever since. She made us all feel like princesses on that special day and I'll never forget the experience.

I sat on a chair with my friends and parents surrounding me. I always wondered what I'd look like in a mohawk, you know, like those crazy fans at football games, so we started with the sides. I figured I'm not likely to shave my head again so may as well make some fun out of it. The sensation and vibration around my ears was weird. We stopped at intervals to laugh out loud and shed a couple of tears. Everyone told me I would look great and rock the bald look. That's what friends are for. I wasn't so sure. Of course, I have the world's best toque and hat collection now (see blog - The Epic and Unforgettable Pinkness in Pitt Party).

Photos were taken and encouraging words spoken. Michelle was busy at her task and making sure not to shave me "to the wood" as I have a bit of a rash reaction from the chemotherapy drugs. She said she'd leave me with a layer of fuzz so as not to open any of the bumps on my scalp and I agreed that I could handle waking up to a little fuzz in my bed. However, if I wake up to two eyebrows on my pillowcase that could be strange. I picture them as two arches as though they transferred from my face in their current state onto my pillow.

Mohawk achieved. I've been dyeing my hair for so long I didn't realize how grey my whole head really is underneath. Apparently a mohawk doesn't lie!

With the sides gone, it was time to take the middle strip off. I was drawn into Nadine's eyes and we both shed a tear or two over that. It was a very touching moment between good friends. All I could think about was how lucky I am to have a chance to beat my disease and I'm so worried about her losing her beloved husband to his cruel ALS and what all that will mean to them both.

I could see TeeTee wiping tears from behind her camera. There were smiles and "those eyes" all around me, the eyes people look at you with when they feel bad for you. It all turned to laughter and compliments very quickly. Can't keep me or my friends down for long!

Once I was completely clean-shaved, I let everyone touch my head. It is prickly and soft all at the same time. I actually don't mind the way I look hairless and after having a shower and realizing how much maintenance hair is, I may just enjoy the break.

Michelle posing with me "before"

Me with the "toupee" look

Mohawk

Striped Mohawk (aka grey roots!)

A Special Moment with Nadine

Done - Baldness Achieved!

Mom and Dad

Me with Nadine "After"

Lori, Carrisa and Taylor

Nadine and Alex (with pink-streaked braids!)

I'll Get By With a Little Help From My Friends...

2011-11-21T12:18:00.000-08:00

I have always been a Beatles fan and love listening to the CD my daughter made me for my van. It brings back lovely memories. During this hourly battle for my life, this song comes to mind. I say hourly because every hour my symptoms, reactions and emotions change.

The first day was the roughest for sure. Sitting in a hospital chair watching three bags of chemicals empty in your otherwise drug-free body was horrifying. That night, TeeTee stayed over with me, as I was scared to be left alone. We were trying to decide if those first hours' worth of side effects were as a result of all the adrenaline and anxiety of the day or if these were truly side effects from the noxious fluids. We won't know until the second round, I suppose. My symptoms ranged from tingling and pounding in my head to one long wave of nausea. I took every mandatory and optional pill as I was determined not to throw up. The advice is to do that and I figured this was not a time to disprove any doctors' theories. Just swallowing the pills made me gag. I was afraid to move or talk or breathe. TeeTee made me soup and I tried a few teaspoons of that. I came very close to vomiting once but then the pills kicked in right at that moment and I felt somewhat better for about an hour. I didn't sleep well at all, wishing things, all things, could be different.

Upon waking, I opened my eyes and couldn't believe I was alive and not feeling too badly. I couldn't hear TeeTee awake so I lay there, still in my thoughts, and assessing each body part. Nothing had fallen off overnight. I think I expected there'd be an arm or leg next to me in the bed or something. When I got up, TeeTee and I had my usual breakfast of yogurt, banana, granola and cranberries. I had a few sips of coffee but haven't been able to stomach that since. Lori came by with watermelon, which is now the best fruit on the planet, ginger ale and crackers. This was my diet for the day. When my girls were sick, it was ginger ale and crackers so I figured this might work for me if the nausea returned, which it did. The day went fairly well, TeeTee left in the afternoon and Tracey came by on her way home from work, just in case I was scared again. Again, I took all the recommended meds and played hero to no one.

Day three, I felt horrible again. I forced myself to have a shower. My sense of smell is heightened like never before. Not even when I was pregnant was it this sensitive to everything. I just figured if I had a shower at least I wouldn't offend visitors. Today wasn't as bad as the first night - nothing has been that bad - but horrible nonetheless. Pounding, tingling head, nausea and aching all over, head-to-toe, front-to-back. Lori and Sharon came by for a brief visit and Sharon brought each of us cancer survivors (of course I'm "pending") bracelets to cheer us up.

Days four and five were very similar to day three. Tracey came over and spent the day cleaning my place and she changed my sheets. That felt good for sure.

Day six, the fog lifted, the nausea subsided completely and I actually felt up to watching the Lions win the west and the Canucks beat the east. I managed a full meal and a shower.

Sleeping is definitely an issue. I was so tired one night I thought I was going to die from exhaustion. The simplest things are complex. Typing this blog used to come very naturally but now it's a struggle. Reading emails, let alone responding to them, is difficult. I have so many people checking in on me daily to make sure I'm okay I felt I wanted to get this blog out.

If there were one thing I'd change about the Beatles song, it would be the world "little" because it's taking a lot of help from my friends - but they are all there. In my darkest moments, I can see them standing in front of me cheering me to victory. I can see them walking beside me every step of the way. But most importantly, I can feel them pushing me from behind when I so desperately just want to stop trying, when there seems no point to all of this. They make me realize that no matter what else is happening in my life, I have to fight for a happier tomorrow, that things will get better and somehow that makes me keep going. So that's what I will do.

Chemotherapy or Forced Rehab???

2011-11-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

The past two Saturday nights I have partied hearty and probably drank more crantinis than would be prescribed by my oncologist. All that partying has come to a dramatic halt as the nurse, today, told me that it may not make me feel very good to drink alcohol during my chemo treatments. I may challenge her on that at some point and give into the occasional cocktail. As I've said before, I can't think of a better time to drink than being on chemotherapy!

Today was my first chemotherapy treatment. I actually slept pretty well last night. I guess I wasn't as terrified about this as I was for the surgeries. I walked in with the attitude that this will be one down, five to go, but as TeeTee and I got closer to my "pod" (the place where they keep the pod people) my heart started to race and the dread of reality set in. We were introduced to Nurse Lisa, who sat me in the appropriate chair and was ready to hook me up through my chest port to receive all the toxic liquids. I held TeeTee's hand and burst into tears as Lisa gently jabbed (can you really "gently" jab??) the needle into my port. I don't think it was so much the pain of the needle going in as the utter fear of the knowledge that this necessary poison was going to start pumping into the vein that leads to my right ventricle. I know this is necessary to save my life, and it better work, because I'm not going through all of this for negative results. Nurse Lisa was then very thorough in explaining all the medications' side effects, including her personal guarantee that I will lose the hair on my head on the 14th day. After being completely overwhelmed by too much information, it was time to get started. Nurse Lisa then gave me my anti-nausea medication and offered me a drink to wash them down. We all had a good laugh, as my first request was for a crantini or a glass of shiraz. I settled for water.

Nurse Lisa then hung my bright red Kool-aid-coloured drip and I held her hand while we all watched it course through what seemed like miles of intravenous tubing until it went right into my chest. The moment the liquid hit my chest made me feel completely vulnerable and rather violated, something I wasn't ready for. At that moment I should have been holding TeeTee's hand, but she was too busy videotaping and photographing this incredibly personal moment. Truth be told, I requested her to document every step of this day, so she's not "really" being too negligent in her comforting duties. I was also told I could expect to pee orange or red, so not to freak out when that happens. After 10 or 15 minutes, the red bag was drained and the next bag of drugs were hung. This one only took six minutes to course through my system, and then the final bag was pumped by a machine into my body for 45 minutes. The final step today was to flush my port with a saline solution to cleanse my port for next time, then I was done.

On our way out I had to pee and, sure enough, it was bright orange, as promised. I stopped just short of photographing the toilet bowl for my blog. While some things don't need to be seen, others apparently must be heard, as I find myself full of gas and farting with every step I take. It reminds me of a motorboat in action. This apparently nauseates TeeTee, so she may have to borrow some of my medication to cope.

So now I've been home for a few hours, feeling sort of "strange". I'm not sure if that's as a result of the stress and adrenalin of today or if it's the side effects I was informed about. After realizing it was late in the day and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I had some toast and experienced a wave of nausea, so decided to give in and take my "bonus" anti-nausea pill and have basically been laying on the couch, allowing TeeTee to be my personal nurse for the afternoon. She has also been acting as my secretary, reading me emails, fielding my calls, and even typing this blog through dictation. I think the rest of my day will be spent laying around, feeling somewhat sorry for myself, but strong in the knowledge that there are a lot of you out there cheering me on and pulling for me. I'm once again very grateful not to walk this path alone. Now, if I could only figure out a way that you could take my chemotherapy for me, that would really make me feel a lot better. I'm not sure how often I'll be blogging over the next little bit, but will do my best to keep you all updated on my progress. Keep your positive thoughts flowing. Next time you see pictures of me I may be bald with a handlebar moustache, waxed lovingly on the tips into a perfect curl. Oh, did I forget to mention that it seems unwanted hair growth is a possible side effect from one of the many medications? Talk about adding insult to injury.

Till next time…

Uh-oh, this can't be good

Me and Nurse Lisa B4 it begins

Anti-naseau pills......check!!

I don't want to do this anymore....

Heated blanket, pillow, IV drip....just waiting for my pedicure...

Nurse Deb removing the tubes

One down.....five to go.....Yes!!

Reality hits hard. Not feeling so great. Thank goodness for my comfort blankie and my beloved TeeTee.

Happy Dance Day!

2011-11-10T11:24:00.000-08:00

Today was the day I've been nervous about. Well, surprisingly not as nervous as the day I went for my port insertion surgery. Somehow being stuck with more needles and cut open again to install the port and a tube that runs to my carotid artery freaked me out more than the news I may have cancer in other parts of my body!

I underwent a CT scan of my abdomen and a head-to-toe bone scan. Lori drove me to the appointment and we met TeeTee there. The three of us tried to convince the nurse to supply us with wine, Ativan or champagne and orange juice. While she said she couldn't do that, she laughed with us and thought it was a great idea! So with our usual good humour, we waited for the oncologist to bring us the news. He confirmed my tests were negative for spread and that they would just keep an eye on my liver, which seems pretty common for my type of cancer. Whew - what a huge relief!

We all just refer to breast cancer as "breast cancer". I decided I wanted to know what the formal name of my form of breast cancer is and had asked a couple of weeks ago. I have what's commonly known as "triple negative breast cancer". It's scientifically known as "ER-negative, PR-negative, her-2/neu-negative, Grade 3, Stage 2 carcinoma breast". While getting negative test results today is a good thing, apparently triple negative breast cancer is not. How confusing this all has become. All I know is, for today, for now, all is as good as can be expected. The three of us shared high-fives and Lori exclaimed, "This is great! Life is good!" and TeeTee admitted this was definitely a happy dance day!

Next is chemotherapy, which starts on Tuesday. I was handed three prescriptions to fill for nausea medication. The doctor said one may constipate me, one may make sleep impossible and the other is a back-up in case the first two don't work well enough. For someone who doesn't take Tylenol, this is mind-boggling. As I've said all along, however, every day done and every treatment behind me is a day closer to recovery so I say, bring it, and let's get 'er done!

Going to happy dance now...will you join me?

The Epic and Unforgettable Pinkness in Pitt Party

2011-11-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday night will forever remain one of my fondest memories. There was a ton of laughter, a few tears and many gentle hugs throughout the evening. Lori invited us all to her Manor for a pre-chemotherapy pick-me-up party and she nailed it! When I walked into her home, I immediately was drawn to the pink decorations she used to dress her dining room. Lori and I admit we are not the most creative people so she definitely outdid herself.

Ethel (Sabrina) was our bartender and photographer for the evening. I started with a cosmopolitan and then asked her what she was drinking. She said it was a crantini and invited me to take a sip. I left her the cosmo and drank crantinis for the rest of the night. I think that may become close to Shiraz on my party list.

Guests arrived, one after the other, until there were more than 20 friends in attendance. I was thrilled to see each and every one. I couldn't really hug anyone so just leaned in for kisses. Post-mastectomy, I hugged with my right side, saying, "This is my good side." Since I had just had my power port surgically implanted two days prior into my right chest, I really didn't have a good side. However, where there's a will, there's a way and Susie found it. She said my backside was my good side and hugged me from behind. So sweet.

Patty brought a cake she'd had made that was topped with a photograph of Team K3 from our CIBC Run for the Cure and it was inscribed, "We Love You Karen". Leanne made a tray of pink-frosted cupcakes and arranged them in the shape of the breast cancer ribbon. Nadine brought her signature (and always delicious) strawberries dipped in chocolate, all arranged on a pink heart-shaped platter. There were trays and dips and fattening goodies everywhere - the table was a feast!

I received a couple of gifts from guests who had to leave early: Adele with a lovely flower-embellished toque-and-scarf matching set. Gail presented me with a gift from her friend (see blog, The Kindness of Strangers). Gail had to excuse herself early, as she was volunteering at a fundraising event for sick children. I gave her $20 to donate and said to buy a 50/50 ticket or raffle basket. Nadine had to leave to cheer for her daughter in a hockey game. I was just touched that although they all have such busy lives, these friends took the time to come and spend the evening with me.

As people arrived with gift bags, I honestly thought it was someone's birthday and I'd dropped the ball. Then it became apparent that there was a theme and everyone had brought things to comfort me through chemotherapy. Everything from toques, hats, scarves, mitts and socks to jewellery, a book, a CD, ornaments and a pink rock. A very special pink rock. My friend, Audrey, presented me with her gift bag and said part of it was from her daughter, the always gracious Kate. Kate wrote a beautiful sentiment and prayer for me. She explained that she'd found this rock at the river and painted it pink. She had used the rock during her prayer for me and then inscribed it with, "Zephaniah 3:17" and wrapped it as a gift. A very caring gesture from such a sweet girl.

Then there was the bald cap. Leanne decorated two bald caps with "K3", flowers and rhinestones. She recalled me mentioning that the oncologist said I couldn't carry out my plan to henna tattoo "K3 4EVR" on my bald head, as the ink may actually leach into my bloodstream so it wasn't allowed. I was disappointed and this was Leanne's way of solving that. She made herself one, as she is one of the friends shaving her head in my honour, so we got a preview of how we will look hairless.

There were many laughs and compliments as I tried on different hats. I've never considered myself to carry off the hat look well at all but knowing I will have no choice, as I'll be bald just as winter arrives, has made me appreciate the humour and fashion of it all. I now have enough hats and scarves that if I mix-and-match well, I won't wear the same two for the duration of my treatment. I felt very spoiled and extremely loved by all the thought, attention and care that went into choosing just the right gift from each and every friend.

The lesson for me is to allow others to give. I know from experience that giving to someone else or to a cause is a great way to help us cope with difficult situations. While it is incredibly humbling and somewhat embarrassing to be on the recipient end, the outpouring of love that goes with each act of kindness lifts my spirits and helps me see the big picture - that no matter what's thrown my way, I have an army of people to walk with me, sometimes pushing me from behind to keep me going, each step of the way through this battle. And for that, there aren't enough words to express my gratitude and appreciation except to say to you all, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Oh, and when I got home I had a message from Gail. She used my $20 for 50/50 tickets and I won - $167! What an ending to already fantastic night! Three days later, my cheeks are still sore from smiling. Now, that's a pain I can live with!

Table decorations at the Manor

More Pinkess

My beautiful cake! Thanks Patty!

Nadine's Strawberries

Leanne's Cupcakes!

Ethel Shakin' Up the Martinis!

Me Enjoying a Crantini!

Me and Leanne - Embracing the Baldness!

Me with Susie Toasting Our Friendship

Taylor Rockin' the Mohawk

Bev, Sheilah, Sharon and Me

Me and Lori - Cheers!

TeeTee and Ethel

Friends Modelling Hats (and Leanne still bald)

The Kindness of Strangers

2011-11-07T14:17:00.000-08:00

We always seem to be awash in negativity through the media, the news of the world and how cruel mankind can be to one another. Of course, there are the bright spots that give us all hope and strength to believe there is a better tomorrow and that we can all improve on our humanity, individually and collectively, that through simple acts of kindness we can all live a happier, more content life.

My friend, Lori (see blog, This is Great! Life is Good!) , hosted a "Pinkness in Pitt Party" to lift my spirits. So many great friends came and did just that! While I will definitely provide further blogs on the party itself, I'd like to dedicate this blog to the kindness of strangers.

It became apparent that there was a bit of a theme to the party and that was toques, scarves, socks, anything to keep me warm and comfy (and very stylish) during the winter months while I'm bald and undergoing chemotherapy treatments.

One toque came from a woman who is a total stranger. Her name is Joann and she is friends with my friend, Gail. I was presented with a gift bag, along with a card of well wishes from Joann, who spotted a lovely toque on the ferry and thought I would like it. This struck me as just so sweet. Even strangers are reaching out to support me.

Bev's mom, Margaret, is a cancer survivor and made me an exquisite scarf. It's very unique and all my friends would like one! Her mom said it was "from one survivor to another". That touched me.

There is a singer in Kelowna named Gorden James, who is a friend of my friend, Sheilah. He sent her his CD titled "Heart of the Matter" to pass on to me. I've spent the morning listening to it and it is very uplifting and soothing music and the words are very meaningful. He inscribed the CD with the words, "Karen, be strong and even strangers are praying for you."

Today, I was given a beautiful blanket handmade by a thoughtful woman in Texas. Her name is Maxine. I don't know her, have never met her and here she is thinking of me, praying for me and taking the time to make a cozy cover for my comfort during my chemotherapy. It is beautiful and one of the softest things I've ever felt.

These gestures mean so much at this difficult and challenging time. I will be forever grateful for the love and support of my many friends and family, as well as the kindness of complete strangers who have reached out in a successful attempt to make my world happier and more content.

Holding the CD over my heart - thanks Gorden!

Snuggled in the softest blanket ever - thanks, Maxine!

To The Moon, Alice!

2011-11-06T08:57:00.000-08:00

I met Tracey (aka Alice) about 25 years ago at a bus stop. We were with another woman, Gill, and the three of us struck up a conversation and became friends. Throughout the years, we've been in and out of touch raising families, living in different places and just busy living life. A few years ago, Gill invited Tracey and me for coffee and we were all reunited once again. Turns out, Tracey and I landed in the same town, living only minutes apart so our friendship has blossomed. Our lives have taken very similar twists and turns so we understand each other when no one else can relate.

When I was couch-surfing, she gave up her very comfortable bed for me. She cooked me amazing meals, we shared way too much wine and could just sit and watch a TV movie in silence. When I was ready to set down roots again and move out on my own, she was excited with me. I needed a dresser; she gave me one of hers to use. When I secured a landline, she loaned me her cordless phones. She even provided a wine rack for my home-brewed bottles of Shiraz. It just works like that - whatever one needs, the other helps to provide. So far, I think the only thing I've provided is omelettes - she loves my omelettes.

We were going to a local event, an annual Caribbean Festival, and when I picked her up, I said I needed to stop at the clinic. She asked what was wrong and I said I found a lump and was scared it was serious. She got teary right away, asked a couple of questions and came with me. (see blog, Breast Cancer? Me?)

A couple of weeks later, we were set to go to Las Vegas with two other girlfriends, Ethel (see blog, Lucy and Ethel) and Jenn. Tracey was going to be my roommate. We were very excited to be getting away and to have this fun adventure together. Days before we were to leave, my fear came true: I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I knew it was going to break her heart, as she is a very kind and sensitive soul and does not like to see anyone hurt. I took her hands in mind, looked her in the eyes, and said, "It's not good, honey." She was shocked and saddened at the news but we vowed to go to Vegas and have the time of our lives, heavy-hearted with the knowledge things were going to be rough when we got back.

On the drive to the airport, we all agreed once we hit the border to not speak of cancer, to just enjoy our trip and have a lot of laughs. I truly believe it's the best medicine. I felt I was a little slow on our trip but Tracey was very gracious and declared she still couldn't keep up with me. When we were going to the hotel swimming pool and I put on my bathing suit top, I was shocked to see that my left breast was visibly larger than my right. I started crying and couldn't stop. Tracey comforted me and helped me position it in my top so it wasn't as noticeable. She said, "Look at that cleavage!" to which I replied, "You mean I finally get cleavage and it's caused by a tumour?!" That was it. I wiped my eyes dry and we spent the entire day in the pool. Of course, the rest of that story stays in Vegas!

It was in Vegas that Tracey was dubbed "Alice". She and Jenn felt they needed nicknames, as Ethel and I had been dubbed Lucy and Ethel for quite a while. So we decided Tracey would be Alice and Jenn would be Trixie.

The best thing about Tracey is that no matter what we're doing, watching TV, sipping wine, shopping, fundraising or just talking, you know you're in the company of a true friend. She has my back and I have hers. We always want the best for each other and are always kind to one another. When one hurts, the other cries. When one laughs, the other celebrates. We will be friends forever more, from Vegas to harsh reality - and even to the moon, Alice!

Tracey loving me in Whistler!

Me with Tracey at I Like Mike - Walk for ALS

Me with Tracey at the CIBC Run for the Cure

Me with Tracey at the Pinkness in Pitt Party!

Port Is Not Just A Wine Anymore...

2011-11-04T10:40:00.000-07:00

Two nights ago I couldn't sleep for five minutes. I was very anxious about yet another surgery, this time to install a port into my chest, as a pathway for the chemotherapy into my bloodstream. This is all in an effort to save my arms from permanent vein damage so I can continue to hug without pain. I am a typist by trade so that's another reason but the biggest one is to be able to hug.

I had attended a "port teach" class in preparation for the port insertion surgery and was advised that I could request an Ativan before the local freezing was administered and that would take the edge off. TeeTee came with me and told me to ask for two pills so she could have one as well. The thought of the surgeon cutting into my chest with me just having the "edge" removed freaked me out so I didn't sleep a wink.

We arrived at the hospital really early as there was no traffic on the route there for the first time in recent history. Turns out this was a good thing as I got to be the first to have the procedure and so wouldn't require someone to stay overnight with me as the happy medicine would be out of my system by nightfall. Turns out, I was going to be given a pleasurable intravenous sedation.

"Denise" was my nurse and she admitted me, took my information and installed the IV into the back of my hand. I find this the worst part so I know a port was the right choice for me. She let TeeTee come in and hold my hand while all this was going on. She didn't understand that TeeTee would just use this as another opportunity to heckle me. So with needle in hand, I was wheeled to the Interventional Radiology Department where I was asked some further questions. I asked what the bright blue plastic card was for, suggesting I could perhaps redeem this for a glass of Shiraz (or port) afterwards, and she said that was a great idea, that no one had suggested that before. Hard to believe but true!

A specialist then came and explained the procedure to me. As he described the two incisions and that I would have dissolvable stitches, I was just thankful I didn't have to have staples again. Then he said they put Dermabond, a super glue, over top of the whole thing so I won't have to change dressings. The Dermabond also helps to prevent infection and will fall off in two purple blobs between one and two weeks post-surgery.

When I was then wheeled into the surgical room, I was freezing. They explained the air conditioning just kicks in during the month of November as they sweat all summer long. I was covered in a pile of three heated blankies and made as comfortable as possible. Then three television screens appeared, I assumed for football, baseball and hockey. Apparently they're so the surgeon can see where he's going in my chest. Then the nurse peeled back my gown, exposing the right side of my chest and I said something about it's nice to still have one nipple that stiffens in cold weather. She then covered my surgical site with antiseptic and a big blue tarp. I welcomed the extra layer of warmth and the fact I couldn't see the TV screens. Then came in my favourite person, the anesthetist. He said he could put wine into the IV but he had something better. And he was right! Except for the initial poke of the needle for the freezing in my chest, I felt nothing at all. It was like I was awake but completely zoned out. I said something to the surgeon and he said, "She's still talking. Give her more." If I'd known that's how it worked, I would have babbled endlessly, as everyone knows I can!

The whole surgery took about 30 minutes. I then recovered back in the initial area with Denise and TeeTee. Another nurse drew an ink circle around a small bruise and said they'd keep an eye on that as it could be the sign of a leak. When it was determined the bruise hadn't spread, I was released. I walked in very slow motion to the hospital parking lot. I spotted a car with a licence plate I knew my friend, Lori, had arranged for me to see! TeeTee drove me home and babysat me for a while. Then it was naptime so she left with instructions to call me and wake me up to make sure I'm okay. Good thing I called her when I woke up because she totally lost track of time. It's tough to get good help these days.

As I hadn't slept at all the night before the procedure, I slept like a baby all day and night, only waking to check-up phone calls and to take Tylenol to "keep ahead of the pain". That's definitely part of my to-do list, to keep ahead of the pain. Truth to be told, that's all that's on my to-do list for today. I have to get better and be pain-free, as tomorrow night is a girls' get-together. Oh, yes, I have my priorities straight! Tomorrow night, I will enjoy the original kind of port and celebrate my friendships!

Nurse Denise making sure I'm okay post-surgery

My two latest "battle scars"

Hopefully my last "hand" IV!

Licence plate says "LIFS GD" and the sticker on the back window says "Life Is Good"!

Thanks, Lori!

This Is Great! Life Is Good!

2011-10-30T07:27:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows my friend, Lori, knows these are her two favourite phrases. I met Lori when we were 19 years old. Although we met in one town and then ended up living in the same community, we only reconnected a few years ago. Who knew we would come full circle and become such great friends? It's been an incredible reconnection that has blossomed into a lifelong, very meaningful, friendship. And I'm forever grateful to know her and have her as such an important part of my journey through life.

Unfortunately, we have the "cancer experience" in common. She has beaten Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma which required a tumour to be extracted from her face. That required 15 consecutive days of radiation therapy, which by her description, was gruelling. She relayed it more as an opportunity to spend 15 days with friends and family. She has been able to provide a lot of comfort and hope to me and always reminds me to look at all the positive numbers and results and says, "Don't worry about that," when it comes to the scary stuff. "We'll just deal with it a day at a time." Words to live by. I can get ten pieces of negative news and one piece of good news and she'll say, "This is great!" She always sees the upside to each situation. Since I'm an optimist with a half-full glass (preferably of Shiraz), it's not hard to persuade me to think the same way.

Lori decided to contact the local newspaper to share with the community my diagnosis of breast cancer. Since it was October, and therefore breast cancer awareness month, the paper jumped at the opportunity. We were interviewed and photographed and asked to keep the reporter updated on my progress. Lori repeatedly exclaimed, "We're famous! This is great!" After we walked the 5K CIBC Run for the Cure, the update was submitted and published as well. We raised a lot of money and hopefully some awareness for breast cancer. Lori's co-workers, Patty and Jacquie, were also on the walk and now there is a display of sorts about my journey posted at their workplace for all to see.

As a show of support, and to avoid baldness at all costs, Lori has dyed the underneath half of her hair pink. It looks awesome! It's hard to put into words how uplifting Lori's spirit has been for me. Her generosity is humbling and I look very forward to her daily phone calls, "Hello, my friend." We always laugh out loud and she makes me see that life is indeed good even through the most difficult and darkest of times. Lori shoots from the hip, says it like it is and is fiercely loyal and honest about everything. She is true to all her friends and adores her family.

So whatever lays ahead, "my friend", we will walk (or next year run) it together, side-by-side, through thick and thin. Because after all, our relationship is great and my life with you in it is good!

Lori and me for newspaper - "We're Famous!"

Lori on Team K3 for CIBC Run for the Cure

Me with Lori and her new pink hair!

From Running to Walking

2011-10-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

They say everything happens for a reason but we just don't always know what that reason is. Some say it's fate, some say it's coincidence, others say it's up to God and that we don't know our path, that He lays it out ahead of us and we are just going to have to be patient. Patience has never been one of my strong points so I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and taking this path one day at a time.

Recently, I spent 15 months paying off a huge debt load. At the time, I found it very difficult and frustrating to have to couch-surf and give up everything to just focus on getting that done. It was like I was driven to put that behind me and move on. Looking back, of course, it all makes sense because if I still had that debt on top of being unemployed during treatment, I would be in pretty dire straits. It also confirmed what I already knew - I have very supportive friends and family, who allowed me to share their homes to get this task done.

And over the past couple of years in order to stay positive and strong, I have worked my body out like never before and become pretty strong and healthy "for a woman my age". Always love that compliment. Good thing I did that because that will allow me to fight harder and have a better chance of a positive outcome from treatments. Learning through the experience of others and how they've lost their appetite and, therefore, quite a bit of weight during chemotherapy, I've put on 30 pounds since being diagnosed three months ago. It's a proactive move on my part. I have to say I'm not happy to feel blobby and out of shape. I look at it as a challenge for Nadine, Erin and Holly to whip me back into shape when the time comes.

I went from riding my bike, running, hiking, fitness classes and Grouse Grinding to walking. Since my mastectomy, I have had to stop all activities that could cause further and possibly permanent damage to my left arm. That even seems to include typing and sweeping. It also feels strange to my chest to ride a bike and stretch in that direction. So walking it is. During my chemo treatments, I am to walk every day to help the blood flow and, therefore, distribute the chemicals throughout my body efficiently. Even on the days when I'll want to lay on the couch, I'm to force myself to get up and get moving.

I'm not really complaining, though, because I know I'm lucky to be able to walk and that someday I will be able to workout again and get back into my usual activities. At least that's the plan. One day at a time. I have to learn to be at peace with my path and, above all, continue to be patient about everything. Like I said, that's not one of my strong points. Walk anyone?

Enjoying a climb at Wild Play

Running 10K for Underwear Affair for Cancers Down There in Memory of Scott McEachern

Cycling for ALS and the Sands Family

Me with Nanci showing off our pipes