April 27

Yes, I'm still here. Just not feeling all that well. Very difficult to get motivated to do anything - even type. Wednesdays and Thursdays are not my better days. Feel really tired...but can't sleep all the time! I have to have daily injections to keep my white count up. John has been such a sweetheart and has been doing them for me, even though he doesn't like to stick me with a needle. Well, Thursday morning he was stuck at the hospital, so I had to do it myself. I tried not to think about it, and just did it. I'll let him keep doing it when he's home, but now I know I can do it if/when I have to.

Mom and Dad came by and did some cleaning for me (thank-you, thank-you!). Dad was quite entertaining with the duster - and he'd just had cataract surgery. I told him I don't think my dining room has ever been dusted so well.

My hair is starting to thin. I have very thick hair, but not for long. It is coming out by the fistfuls. Thought I'd show you just how much hair I have, (well, had).

3 of 24

We did beat the rain on our Ebey's loop hike on Sabbath. It sprinkled just a little bit, then the sun actually came out. Back at the parking lot we watched a kite boarder doing his thing...flips and all. Yes, it was pretty windy. There were 5-6 more boarders getting ready to go out, but we were hungry. Thanks for the fun hike Kevin, Sandy and Jeremy.

Today was infusion #3 out of 24. Thanks Jane, for coming and passing the time with me (and for the chocolate!) Hair still intact. There does seem to be a little more in my brush now, or am I just being overly sensitive?

Just want to thank EVERYONE who has posted comments. I really do appreciate them. I was just reading about this breast cancer survivor, from the book "Cancer Has Its Privildges", when she was undergoing treatment, she just "lived for the mailbox everyday." (Oh Mom, that's so early '90's. Actually it was). "Just to receive a card, letter, note...made me feel like I wasn't alone in this journey-that someone out there was thinking about me." It is true. The comments make me smile, and that is a very good thing! Sincerely, thank-you!

Apr 21 - the delay

So that last post ended rather abruptly. It was Friday night...I was tired...I had hit the wall so to speak. I was happily surprised this morning to see the 2 comments that had already come in. Thanks!

I have been planning on setting this blog up for some time now. First, I had to pick a blog sight. There is a wonderful non-profit sight called caringbridge.org that was created specifically for communication for people in crisis. After much indecision (Lindsey had to get it from somewhere), I decided that (1) I don't really feel like I'm in crisis; and (2) I thought that maybe my sarcasm, and cynical way of looking at life might not be appreciated. Like someone said, I might even get kicked off. So I chose this spot.

Next problem: I had to come up with both a title and a URL (web address). But more on that later. Right now, we are going to try to beat out the rain with a hike at Ebey's with some friends.

From there to here

First of all, I'll start here. I'm doing okay. I am currently undergoing 24 weeks of adjuvant chemotherapy for breast cancer. I have completed 2 infusion sessions. And, as of this moment, I still have all my hair.

Now for there. After a normal mammogram in June 2006, I was diagnosed with infiltrating ductal carcinoma of the breast on February 16, 2007. John got busy on PubMed, and at the U of Washington Health Sciences Library. After much research, and helpful advice from friends, I had a bilateral mastectomy on March 1. Post-op dx: infiltrating poorly differentiated ductal carcinoma. Hormone receptor status, triple negative (estrogen, progesterone, Her2 neu). Upshot, an aggressive tumor, but no evidence of lymph spread (sentinel node negative on both sides). So that was good news. Because of the possibility of micrometasteses, adjuvant chemotherapy is done. I had a port-a-cath placed at the time of my surgery. It's a port they can inject into (and draw blood out of) that infuses directly into my vena cava. Saves my peripheral veins from 24 weeks of poking.