I can't believe how time is flying! I have been tackling Christmas shopping with a vengeance, because I want it done before I leave on the trip. I can't believe Thursday is Thanksgiving already.
My sister, Cheryle, and her husband, Jerry, are coming down from Alaska for Thanksgiving. They are staying at Jerry's sister's house in Shelton, but we're all getting together at their daughter's home in Olympia for dinner. I'm picking up Jim, in Tacoma, on the way. It's been years since I've had a holiday with Cheryle, so I look forward to it.
I am getting stronger everyday. Tomorrow I have to go back in for a breathing exercise at Swedish, called ABC, to continue planning my radiation. Since it's my left side, of course they don't want my heart zapped, so this method involves a breathing technique that gets your heart farther away from the beams, and they tell me I'm a good candidate for it. I have Herceptin Tuesday, which is no biggie anymore. How far I've come tolerating all of this!
I was supposed to have a massage yesterday, but my massage therapist, Naomi, was sick, and I sure as hell don't want to catch anything. So next weekend, I have a pedicure, waxing and a massage all in preparation for Hawaii!
I also did get the swim form for my swimsuit, and I'm picking up my bathing suit top and one sundress I have with a shelf bra in it today, that Nordstrom sewed pockets into for my forms. No one will know. I'm so grateful.
I also got a wide-brimmed hat with SPF 50 properties so I don't burn my head. I do have a pretty good crop of fuzz now, with no scalp showing, but I don't want to take a chance. Interestingly enough, my hair looks really dark! Lord only knows what it's going to look like in a year or so.
If you follow me on Facebook, too, you will know that my dear friend Erica came to visit last weekend, with her adorable daughter, Quinn, who will be two in March. Oh, we had such a good time, and that baby was so good for my heart. Erica was, too. She gives good hugs, and I've needed that.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone. I am thankful to be cancer free this Thanksgiving. How about you?
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The pressure is off
This was a very good day. After having a three-dimensional CT, to determine where the radiation "beams" will be directed at me, I had a wonderful meeting with the head social worker at Swedish about the insurance problem.
I can't believe this. I'm off the hook! She had already spoken to the director of corporate compliance, and the director of the financial counseling department, and they said no way am I to be responsible for the $138,000-plus for chemo; that I'm not obligated to pay any of it!
We had to go through the formality of a letter, and a financial questionnaire, plus a copy of last year's tax return, but I didn't have to disclose any value on my investments.
Based on my earnings from my job, I actually have made so little money due to the reduced hours I've had because of all my time spent having all that fun in the Cancer Center and the hospital, I would be considered a hardship, and it's possible I won't have to pay anything else.
We'll see on that one. But this social worker, Sandy, was an absolute angel. She said she had been on vacation, got back, heard about my case from Dr. Dobie (my shrink) and she was totally ready to take this on!!
So, here's what will happen. Swedish will first go after First Choice, but if they won't pay (I assume after a legal battle) Swedish absorbs it. Swedish is sort of to blame, because they didn't check my insurance benefits to ascertain whether my chemo would be covered once I was in the study, but, still, their attorney said Federal law states they can't deny insurance for research study approved by the National Cancer Institute, which my study was.
At any rate, I'm off the study, and off the hook for the big bucks, and I feel so much better!
It's one thing dealing with the disease and all the trouble that comes with it, and another thing dealing with the possibility of never retiring, or worse yet, ending up living in my car.
More happy news. I was fitted for a form, or prosthetic, yesterday by a lovely, compassionate woman name Shannon at the downtown Nordstrom. My God, they whisk you into a huge dressing room, and bring everything to you. She knew what the hell she was doing, as they are specially trained, and it looks pretty damn good. It's like a soft, gel type thing, and it slides into a special little pocket in the bras. I got two really pretty bras. So, now I can wear my fitted clothes again, and look like a girl!
I told Shannon about Hawaii, and they actually have a water form, so I am going to have them sew a pocket into my swimsuit top and get the water form! Problem solved. She also said they can sew pockets into my sundresses that have shelf bras. Another angel, that girl.
Oh, also, with Nordstrom, they bill insurance for the bras and stuff, because it is a prosthesis. No money came out of my pocket, however the assholes (as I like to call First Choice) might deny the water form.
Also, I'm clear for Lapatinib, which they were hassling me about, too.
I won!
I can't believe this. I'm off the hook! She had already spoken to the director of corporate compliance, and the director of the financial counseling department, and they said no way am I to be responsible for the $138,000-plus for chemo; that I'm not obligated to pay any of it!
We had to go through the formality of a letter, and a financial questionnaire, plus a copy of last year's tax return, but I didn't have to disclose any value on my investments.
Based on my earnings from my job, I actually have made so little money due to the reduced hours I've had because of all my time spent having all that fun in the Cancer Center and the hospital, I would be considered a hardship, and it's possible I won't have to pay anything else.
We'll see on that one. But this social worker, Sandy, was an absolute angel. She said she had been on vacation, got back, heard about my case from Dr. Dobie (my shrink) and she was totally ready to take this on!!
So, here's what will happen. Swedish will first go after First Choice, but if they won't pay (I assume after a legal battle) Swedish absorbs it. Swedish is sort of to blame, because they didn't check my insurance benefits to ascertain whether my chemo would be covered once I was in the study, but, still, their attorney said Federal law states they can't deny insurance for research study approved by the National Cancer Institute, which my study was.
At any rate, I'm off the study, and off the hook for the big bucks, and I feel so much better!
It's one thing dealing with the disease and all the trouble that comes with it, and another thing dealing with the possibility of never retiring, or worse yet, ending up living in my car.
More happy news. I was fitted for a form, or prosthetic, yesterday by a lovely, compassionate woman name Shannon at the downtown Nordstrom. My God, they whisk you into a huge dressing room, and bring everything to you. She knew what the hell she was doing, as they are specially trained, and it looks pretty damn good. It's like a soft, gel type thing, and it slides into a special little pocket in the bras. I got two really pretty bras. So, now I can wear my fitted clothes again, and look like a girl!
I told Shannon about Hawaii, and they actually have a water form, so I am going to have them sew a pocket into my swimsuit top and get the water form! Problem solved. She also said they can sew pockets into my sundresses that have shelf bras. Another angel, that girl.
Oh, also, with Nordstrom, they bill insurance for the bras and stuff, because it is a prosthesis. No money came out of my pocket, however the assholes (as I like to call First Choice) might deny the water form.
Also, I'm clear for Lapatinib, which they were hassling me about, too.
I won!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Where has time gone?
How can it be November already? Today was a beautiful fall day, with lots of sunshine and beautiful colors, but it's cold! How could I have lived in Alaska 38 years? But I did, and still love it up there; in the summer!
I'm listening to the brand new Florence and the Machine CD, "Ceremonials." God I love her. Her voice is ethereal. This is the second CD from Florence. She is a fabulous Welch red head - and guess what? I'm a quarter Welsh, and I was a redhead (my hair is coming back very dark). That must explain why I so love the royals, and Florence! So, she is performing Dec. 8 at the Wa-Mu theater on a triple bill with singer/songwriter Matt Kearney, then Seattle's own "The Head and the Heart," who are fabulous, then Florence is headlining. And guess who is in row 13, dead center in seat one! ME! YAY!!!
That's just two nights before I leave for my little Hawaii trip. Then I'll get back and it will be Christmas almost. So, that's what I mean.......where does time go?
Today was productive. That extra hour (going off Daylight Savings) is always such a God send. The doctors, of course, keep telling me to take it easy, but it's hard for me as everyone who really knows me, knows. But I was pretty good to myself this weekend.
Good news though; I got that damn drain out of me Friday. I was still putting out more fluid than they wanted me to, but I basically demanded they take it out. It hurt. And it had been in three weeks and two days, and I'd had it with the fucker. I hate artificial crap in my body. I'm stuck with the port for at least another year, so that's bad enough.
One of Dr. Beatty's main nurses, Chris, took it out. It felt weird. She was very nice, but also very stern and sort of a negative Nellie. She wasn't happy with my decision to take it out early, because if my chest cavity started to fill up with goop, I'd have to come in and have Dr. Beatty drain it with a needle, maybe every two days she said. Then, she says, if that doesn't work, they might even have to put in another drain. Meantime, Dr. Beatty is saying, well, none of that might happen.
Well guess what??? I haven't had to call him all weekend. I am not filling up with fluid. I win!! I'm still sore and sort of feel like an elephant is sitting on the left side of my chest, but I'm healing well, and God willing, will be able to be fitted for a prosthetic in a week! Yay again! I even can get a swimsuit for Hawaii with a fake booby!
The downer of the week was having Herceptin Tuesday. The Herceptin isn't the problem. For the first time ever, the oncology nurses were having a hell of time accessing my port. It was horrible. I basically got poked six times with needles; three lidocane shots and three attempts to access the port. I was in tears. It seems my port has moved a little - it's crooked, probably from my chest area being jerked around in surgery. But, that was awful to say the least.
Dr. Beatty is checking my wound again tomorrow, then Wednesday I have a CT to figure out where to aim the radiation.
I had a lovely late brunch today with one of my oldest friends, Linell. She's been so good to me. I've known her since the 7th grade. We went to this newer place in West Seattle called the "Tuscan Tearoom," and OMG, it was fabulous! It's very girly-girl, with white linens, China tea pots and cups, fabric on the walls....you get the picture. We had a pot of incredible Amaretto tea and then we both had Frangelico French Toast. I'm not kidding - died and gone to heaven good.
They do high tea and dinner, too, and they also have wine. I'll be back!! It was killer.
So back to time...I'm already worrying about Christmas. But, I bought three gifts today, and already had a couple from a few weeks ago. So, yes, I feel productive.
Next weekend I will get a much needed baby fix, as my dear friend Erica comes to see me, with her adorable, precious almost-two-year old baby girl, Quinn. I love that baby. I hope she'll warm to me and give me lots of love; I haven't seen her since April, so she may not have a clue who I am. I hope so. I'm proud to say I bought her her first purse, AND her first faux-fur coat!
My own baby is doing fine. He's had to go through a lot of physical tests in order to even get into Firefighter I next semester, but he's doing good. Healthy as a horse, my boy. Wish I was, too, but I'll get back to my old self one day. It's just going to take time.
I'm listening to the brand new Florence and the Machine CD, "Ceremonials." God I love her. Her voice is ethereal. This is the second CD from Florence. She is a fabulous Welch red head - and guess what? I'm a quarter Welsh, and I was a redhead (my hair is coming back very dark). That must explain why I so love the royals, and Florence! So, she is performing Dec. 8 at the Wa-Mu theater on a triple bill with singer/songwriter Matt Kearney, then Seattle's own "The Head and the Heart," who are fabulous, then Florence is headlining. And guess who is in row 13, dead center in seat one! ME! YAY!!!
That's just two nights before I leave for my little Hawaii trip. Then I'll get back and it will be Christmas almost. So, that's what I mean.......where does time go?
Today was productive. That extra hour (going off Daylight Savings) is always such a God send. The doctors, of course, keep telling me to take it easy, but it's hard for me as everyone who really knows me, knows. But I was pretty good to myself this weekend.
Good news though; I got that damn drain out of me Friday. I was still putting out more fluid than they wanted me to, but I basically demanded they take it out. It hurt. And it had been in three weeks and two days, and I'd had it with the fucker. I hate artificial crap in my body. I'm stuck with the port for at least another year, so that's bad enough.
One of Dr. Beatty's main nurses, Chris, took it out. It felt weird. She was very nice, but also very stern and sort of a negative Nellie. She wasn't happy with my decision to take it out early, because if my chest cavity started to fill up with goop, I'd have to come in and have Dr. Beatty drain it with a needle, maybe every two days she said. Then, she says, if that doesn't work, they might even have to put in another drain. Meantime, Dr. Beatty is saying, well, none of that might happen.
Well guess what??? I haven't had to call him all weekend. I am not filling up with fluid. I win!! I'm still sore and sort of feel like an elephant is sitting on the left side of my chest, but I'm healing well, and God willing, will be able to be fitted for a prosthetic in a week! Yay again! I even can get a swimsuit for Hawaii with a fake booby!
The downer of the week was having Herceptin Tuesday. The Herceptin isn't the problem. For the first time ever, the oncology nurses were having a hell of time accessing my port. It was horrible. I basically got poked six times with needles; three lidocane shots and three attempts to access the port. I was in tears. It seems my port has moved a little - it's crooked, probably from my chest area being jerked around in surgery. But, that was awful to say the least.
Dr. Beatty is checking my wound again tomorrow, then Wednesday I have a CT to figure out where to aim the radiation.
I had a lovely late brunch today with one of my oldest friends, Linell. She's been so good to me. I've known her since the 7th grade. We went to this newer place in West Seattle called the "Tuscan Tearoom," and OMG, it was fabulous! It's very girly-girl, with white linens, China tea pots and cups, fabric on the walls....you get the picture. We had a pot of incredible Amaretto tea and then we both had Frangelico French Toast. I'm not kidding - died and gone to heaven good.
They do high tea and dinner, too, and they also have wine. I'll be back!! It was killer.
So back to time...I'm already worrying about Christmas. But, I bought three gifts today, and already had a couple from a few weeks ago. So, yes, I feel productive.
Next weekend I will get a much needed baby fix, as my dear friend Erica comes to see me, with her adorable, precious almost-two-year old baby girl, Quinn. I love that baby. I hope she'll warm to me and give me lots of love; I haven't seen her since April, so she may not have a clue who I am. I hope so. I'm proud to say I bought her her first purse, AND her first faux-fur coat!
My own baby is doing fine. He's had to go through a lot of physical tests in order to even get into Firefighter I next semester, but he's doing good. Healthy as a horse, my boy. Wish I was, too, but I'll get back to my old self one day. It's just going to take time.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Another week goes by
I'm still hurting from the surgery, but I had a good weekend, and I'm feeling better about myself. The drain continues to be a horrible inconvenience, and the tubing is what really is hurting me.
I had to make a mad dash to Dr. Beatty's on Tuesday, because I was leaking so bad. My post-surgical camisole was pretty damp and I freaked. It leaks right where it comes out of my body, so it's pretty awful. They redressed everything, and I'm using gauze and what not now, but they concluded I'm overdoing it, and that's why I'm leaking.
So, I've stayed off my elliptical and have just been walking. God I hate this. I want to get back to pilates soooo bad. But it has helped by me slowing down a little. I just want it out. If I haven't got to the point where it's less than 30ml a day coming out of me by the 8th of November, they'll take it out anyway, because it could start to be at risk for infection.
I also saw Dr. Kaplan this week - cried on his shoulder a little bit. He's just the best - they both are. We talked about my decision to go ahead with radiation, and my continuing on with Herceptin, and he wants to get me on this anti-estrogen pill called lapatinib (because of my positive hormone receptors) but it's a very expensive drug, so we're going to sure first that those assholes at my insurance company will pay for it. I won't die without it, but again, it will increase my odds against re occurrence of the cancer.
Swedish is still fighting for me on the insurance issue (them trying to not pay for the chemo). I've put it in their hands. I cannot deal with it. It's too emotionally stressful.
Anyway, last week was busy, I worked more than I have in a while. We had the annual editorial conference Friday, at the mother ship (the press facility and main office for Sound Publishing) which is almost to Everett. Actually it was a pretty good conference - editorial staff from all over the place. I sat by the editor for the Vashon Island Beachcomber, which got general excellence at the WNPA awards, and she is a wonderful woman. It's just her and one reporter. Unreal. The keynote speaker was a Pulitzer prize winning journalist from the L.A. Times, who uncovered the city hall scandal in Bell, California, where the city council president and board member were bilking the city for hundreds of thousands of dollars for the salaries - most city council members are paid a minimal "wage" for their services and this guy was making almost $800,000 a day! I left after him - didn't stay for any breakout sessions because I was exhausted, so I left at 3:30 and got stuck in the worst traffic jam ever. It took me two hours to get home. I was so pissed! But the rest of the weekend was good.
I have herceptin Tuesday, then next week a CT to figure out the positioning of the "nukes" for when they start radiation.
I'm getting more and more excited about going to Kauai in December! Barrie's coming too, so it will be two of my Alaska pals and me. It's going to be a wonderful reprieve for me.
I had to make a mad dash to Dr. Beatty's on Tuesday, because I was leaking so bad. My post-surgical camisole was pretty damp and I freaked. It leaks right where it comes out of my body, so it's pretty awful. They redressed everything, and I'm using gauze and what not now, but they concluded I'm overdoing it, and that's why I'm leaking.
So, I've stayed off my elliptical and have just been walking. God I hate this. I want to get back to pilates soooo bad. But it has helped by me slowing down a little. I just want it out. If I haven't got to the point where it's less than 30ml a day coming out of me by the 8th of November, they'll take it out anyway, because it could start to be at risk for infection.
I also saw Dr. Kaplan this week - cried on his shoulder a little bit. He's just the best - they both are. We talked about my decision to go ahead with radiation, and my continuing on with Herceptin, and he wants to get me on this anti-estrogen pill called lapatinib (because of my positive hormone receptors) but it's a very expensive drug, so we're going to sure first that those assholes at my insurance company will pay for it. I won't die without it, but again, it will increase my odds against re occurrence of the cancer.
Swedish is still fighting for me on the insurance issue (them trying to not pay for the chemo). I've put it in their hands. I cannot deal with it. It's too emotionally stressful.
Anyway, last week was busy, I worked more than I have in a while. We had the annual editorial conference Friday, at the mother ship (the press facility and main office for Sound Publishing) which is almost to Everett. Actually it was a pretty good conference - editorial staff from all over the place. I sat by the editor for the Vashon Island Beachcomber, which got general excellence at the WNPA awards, and she is a wonderful woman. It's just her and one reporter. Unreal. The keynote speaker was a Pulitzer prize winning journalist from the L.A. Times, who uncovered the city hall scandal in Bell, California, where the city council president and board member were bilking the city for hundreds of thousands of dollars for the salaries - most city council members are paid a minimal "wage" for their services and this guy was making almost $800,000 a day! I left after him - didn't stay for any breakout sessions because I was exhausted, so I left at 3:30 and got stuck in the worst traffic jam ever. It took me two hours to get home. I was so pissed! But the rest of the weekend was good.
I have herceptin Tuesday, then next week a CT to figure out the positioning of the "nukes" for when they start radiation.
I'm getting more and more excited about going to Kauai in December! Barrie's coming too, so it will be two of my Alaska pals and me. It's going to be a wonderful reprieve for me.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Tired and sore
Everybody is asking "how are you doing?" I'm tired and I am sore. My big accomplishment today was to get Abbey to the groomer and pick her up. I didn't even shower until a little bit ago. I woke up too early, read the paper, had breakfast, paid bills, tried to make some sense out of hospital shit, balanced my checkbook and by then it was noon and I was exhausted.
I hate feeling so helpless and weak. My cousin, Julie, wrote in a card to me to "be patient with yourself." That is a very hard thing for me to do.
So, I'm already back in my jammies, eating an apple and having a glass of wine, which I can tolerate again, thank God, but I limit myself to two glasses since I'm on pain killers.
What hurts so bad is where the nasty drain appears to start, sort of under my arm pit, near the site where they took the sentinel node out, which hurt anyway. I hate this drain so much. They'll take it out when I get 30ml or less per day coming out of me. Today has been good - only 60 so far. It hurts, and it's ugly. My chest is ugly. All I'd have to do on Halloween is take my shirt off and I could scare the living beejeezus out of anyone. I hate the way I look.
The good news is that I am cancer free. I'm very, very relieved, but it doesn't make this pain any easier. I consulted with a second radiologist Thursday, and I will be doing radiation. It was a coin toss.
Since I was triple positive (for hormone receptors) there is a school of thought that radiation isn't necessary. However, with the size of my tumor and it's aggression, it is recommended. I'm doing it. The day I made this decision, a story came out in the New York Times with the header "Radiation Therapy After Breast Cancer Surgery Cuts Recurrence, Study Says." Blew my mind.
Basically, if I do this, there's a good chance it will never come back, and if it does, it will be in 10-15 years. By then, maybe there will be other methods of treating breast cancer. If not, well I'll be old enough by then to just say screw it, go on a nice trip somewhere, and come home to die.
So on November 9, I'll have a CT which will enable the radiologist to know precisely where to aim the nuke, and I'll start radiation when I get back from my little trip to Hawaii in December.
I'm so proud of my kid. He rode all day the other day with the Coeur d'Alene Fire Department, and took a few blood pressures and what not. I think he's really getting into this EMT thing, and I'm so happy about that.
I hope you all won't abandon me. Being cancer free doesn't mean the hell is over. I so appreciate everyone who reads this blog, and cares about me.
I hate feeling so helpless and weak. My cousin, Julie, wrote in a card to me to "be patient with yourself." That is a very hard thing for me to do.
So, I'm already back in my jammies, eating an apple and having a glass of wine, which I can tolerate again, thank God, but I limit myself to two glasses since I'm on pain killers.
What hurts so bad is where the nasty drain appears to start, sort of under my arm pit, near the site where they took the sentinel node out, which hurt anyway. I hate this drain so much. They'll take it out when I get 30ml or less per day coming out of me. Today has been good - only 60 so far. It hurts, and it's ugly. My chest is ugly. All I'd have to do on Halloween is take my shirt off and I could scare the living beejeezus out of anyone. I hate the way I look.
The good news is that I am cancer free. I'm very, very relieved, but it doesn't make this pain any easier. I consulted with a second radiologist Thursday, and I will be doing radiation. It was a coin toss.
Since I was triple positive (for hormone receptors) there is a school of thought that radiation isn't necessary. However, with the size of my tumor and it's aggression, it is recommended. I'm doing it. The day I made this decision, a story came out in the New York Times with the header "Radiation Therapy After Breast Cancer Surgery Cuts Recurrence, Study Says." Blew my mind.
Basically, if I do this, there's a good chance it will never come back, and if it does, it will be in 10-15 years. By then, maybe there will be other methods of treating breast cancer. If not, well I'll be old enough by then to just say screw it, go on a nice trip somewhere, and come home to die.
So on November 9, I'll have a CT which will enable the radiologist to know precisely where to aim the nuke, and I'll start radiation when I get back from my little trip to Hawaii in December.
I'm so proud of my kid. He rode all day the other day with the Coeur d'Alene Fire Department, and took a few blood pressures and what not. I think he's really getting into this EMT thing, and I'm so happy about that.
I hope you all won't abandon me. Being cancer free doesn't mean the hell is over. I so appreciate everyone who reads this blog, and cares about me.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
What a week
It seems like it was over a month ago since I last blogged, but it's been a mere week. And what a week it was. My sister, Cheryle, arrived Tuesday, which was my birthday. Seriously, it was one of the best birthdays ever. I worked four hours to get things wrapped up, and when I got home I had two beautiful bouquets of flowers, tons of cards, messages on Facebook, presents - it was almost overwhelming, and I thought, my God, do they all think I'm going to die tomorrow? Just kidding. I guess I really am blessed to have so many people in my life who really do care. Cheryle and I had an elegant dinner at El Gaucho, and she paid for my dinner, which I wasn't planning, but she insisted. So that was very nice.
Wednesday noon we were off to the hospital. I had not eaten of course, and no liquids after 9:30 a.m., so you get pretty grouchy by the time you get into the OR. We waited and waited. Finally at 4 p.m. Dr. Beatty shows up....his surgery before me was complicated. I was supposed to be in the OR by 1:30. So I just wanted to be knocked out and get the show on the road.
So, along with Dr. Beatty was this nice-looking young lady in scrubs. She was his resident - and I swear to God, looked about maybe 19. I just sort of blurted out, "are you old enough to be a doctor!" My God, we're talking Doogie Houser here! She is a doll, Dr. Tierney, and I learned later she is 26. I said to her, you must be very smart, and she said, "either that or very stupid!" So, I really dig her now, too. The anesthesiologist came next - Dr. Higgins. Cute little bugger. Once we got in the OR (I walked in and pretty much plopped myself up on the table - I'm skilled now), Dr. Higgins gave me the first little dose to make you relax, which is when I start talking about whatever is on my mind. I remember telling Dr. Higgins he was very cute, and the nurses giggling that "the drugs were talking," then I asked if he was single.
The next thing I know, I'm in recovery, unable to open my eyes, but begging for ice chips. I guess Dr. Higgins decided it was time to shut me up. I never did find out if he was single! Sigh.
I got into my hospital room about 7:45 p.m. Cheryle told me that Dr. Beatty said my surgery was "textbook," no complications. I still don't know what pathology will say. I will probably find out tomorrow when I go in for my post-op follow up.
The evening in the hospital was restless. I got so damn hot! So, I buzzed for the nurse and told her I was boiling hot - well, no wonder, the heat was up to 80 in my room! So, she turned it down, and I woke up freezing a few hours later. Plus they came in at 1 a.m. to take my vitals and drain me. Hospitals really sorta suck, but they did have blueberry pancakes on the menu, which oddly enough I was craving, so I had blueberry pancakes and fruit for breakfast which made me very happy.
Dr. Tierney (the Doog) came in to check on me and the wound; that's when I pried her age out of her. Once they trained me on the drain I was a free woman.
The drain is gross. It's a tube that goes directly into my chest and this bloody fluid drains into a device that looks like a hand grenade. Seriously. I've got it down now, but yesterday there was a leak somewhere and we couldn't figure it out, so we called Dr. Beatty's answering service and the Doog called back. She thought there might be a clot near the insertion point, and she said to take off part of the dressing to check it out. She was right. So, we "stripped" it from there all the way to the grenade, and I'm draining fine now. I have to write down how much fluid comes out. Once it's down to less that 30 ml a day, the drain can come out. But we're looking at 10 days or so. It's a pain in the ass, because there's a lump where it rests in a pocket inside my camisole, so dressing myself is a challenge. But once this sucker is out, I can get a real prosthetic bra, and look pretty normal again.
I'm feeling pretty good though, but I sleep a lot. Last night Cheryle and I did the "Market Ghost Tour" at Pike Place Market. There is a lot of paranormal activity there, and I had these two tickets and thought that would be fun during Halloween month. It was a blast. Our tour guide was a girl with the macabre makeup on and what not. Her name was Kook! So we heard all the stories, many of which are truly fascinating, but never saw a ghost. Bummer. After that we had dinner at the Steelhead Diner at the market. We were home from our big date by 9, and I was tired. But I got out! We've watched a couple of good movies, too.
Today the big outing was Home Depot, Bakery Nouveau, a favorite little shop in West Seattle, and the grocery store for a few more items. I'm tired but I'm so glad Cheryle is here, so I'm not dealing with this on my own. She is going with me to see Dr. Beatty tomorrow. Tuesday I think she'll head over to Shelton (other side of Puget Sound) to visit her brother and sister-in-law and I'll attempt to go back to work.
On the insurance front, I need to call the attorney tomorrow and see where we're at. I did get a bill from Swedish for $138,351 in the mail Saturday, and also 28 pages of shit from my insurer. Cheryle crossed checked all the dates to my appointment book, and indeed they are trying to stick me with all of the chemo. They won't win.
I'm still going to Hawaii in December, but my son, Taylor, who turned 21 this week(!), cannot go now because of an exam he has to take the day we were scheduled to leave. It's a state test for his EMT stuff, and he can't change it. It's too complicated to change everything now because of Christmas blackout dates and his school schedule, so I'm taking Colleen instead. We've traveled together many times, and do just great together. But I will desperately need the break, then start radiation when I get back.
Meantime, I have to heal and get stronger. I had quite the whack to my body - literally!
Wednesday noon we were off to the hospital. I had not eaten of course, and no liquids after 9:30 a.m., so you get pretty grouchy by the time you get into the OR. We waited and waited. Finally at 4 p.m. Dr. Beatty shows up....his surgery before me was complicated. I was supposed to be in the OR by 1:30. So I just wanted to be knocked out and get the show on the road.
So, along with Dr. Beatty was this nice-looking young lady in scrubs. She was his resident - and I swear to God, looked about maybe 19. I just sort of blurted out, "are you old enough to be a doctor!" My God, we're talking Doogie Houser here! She is a doll, Dr. Tierney, and I learned later she is 26. I said to her, you must be very smart, and she said, "either that or very stupid!" So, I really dig her now, too. The anesthesiologist came next - Dr. Higgins. Cute little bugger. Once we got in the OR (I walked in and pretty much plopped myself up on the table - I'm skilled now), Dr. Higgins gave me the first little dose to make you relax, which is when I start talking about whatever is on my mind. I remember telling Dr. Higgins he was very cute, and the nurses giggling that "the drugs were talking," then I asked if he was single.
The next thing I know, I'm in recovery, unable to open my eyes, but begging for ice chips. I guess Dr. Higgins decided it was time to shut me up. I never did find out if he was single! Sigh.
I got into my hospital room about 7:45 p.m. Cheryle told me that Dr. Beatty said my surgery was "textbook," no complications. I still don't know what pathology will say. I will probably find out tomorrow when I go in for my post-op follow up.
The evening in the hospital was restless. I got so damn hot! So, I buzzed for the nurse and told her I was boiling hot - well, no wonder, the heat was up to 80 in my room! So, she turned it down, and I woke up freezing a few hours later. Plus they came in at 1 a.m. to take my vitals and drain me. Hospitals really sorta suck, but they did have blueberry pancakes on the menu, which oddly enough I was craving, so I had blueberry pancakes and fruit for breakfast which made me very happy.
Dr. Tierney (the Doog) came in to check on me and the wound; that's when I pried her age out of her. Once they trained me on the drain I was a free woman.
The drain is gross. It's a tube that goes directly into my chest and this bloody fluid drains into a device that looks like a hand grenade. Seriously. I've got it down now, but yesterday there was a leak somewhere and we couldn't figure it out, so we called Dr. Beatty's answering service and the Doog called back. She thought there might be a clot near the insertion point, and she said to take off part of the dressing to check it out. She was right. So, we "stripped" it from there all the way to the grenade, and I'm draining fine now. I have to write down how much fluid comes out. Once it's down to less that 30 ml a day, the drain can come out. But we're looking at 10 days or so. It's a pain in the ass, because there's a lump where it rests in a pocket inside my camisole, so dressing myself is a challenge. But once this sucker is out, I can get a real prosthetic bra, and look pretty normal again.
I'm feeling pretty good though, but I sleep a lot. Last night Cheryle and I did the "Market Ghost Tour" at Pike Place Market. There is a lot of paranormal activity there, and I had these two tickets and thought that would be fun during Halloween month. It was a blast. Our tour guide was a girl with the macabre makeup on and what not. Her name was Kook! So we heard all the stories, many of which are truly fascinating, but never saw a ghost. Bummer. After that we had dinner at the Steelhead Diner at the market. We were home from our big date by 9, and I was tired. But I got out! We've watched a couple of good movies, too.
Today the big outing was Home Depot, Bakery Nouveau, a favorite little shop in West Seattle, and the grocery store for a few more items. I'm tired but I'm so glad Cheryle is here, so I'm not dealing with this on my own. She is going with me to see Dr. Beatty tomorrow. Tuesday I think she'll head over to Shelton (other side of Puget Sound) to visit her brother and sister-in-law and I'll attempt to go back to work.
On the insurance front, I need to call the attorney tomorrow and see where we're at. I did get a bill from Swedish for $138,351 in the mail Saturday, and also 28 pages of shit from my insurer. Cheryle crossed checked all the dates to my appointment book, and indeed they are trying to stick me with all of the chemo. They won't win.
I'm still going to Hawaii in December, but my son, Taylor, who turned 21 this week(!), cannot go now because of an exam he has to take the day we were scheduled to leave. It's a state test for his EMT stuff, and he can't change it. It's too complicated to change everything now because of Christmas blackout dates and his school schedule, so I'm taking Colleen instead. We've traveled together many times, and do just great together. But I will desperately need the break, then start radiation when I get back.
Meantime, I have to heal and get stronger. I had quite the whack to my body - literally!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Tick-tock
Three days until my surgery. I feel pretty good right now, but I will be freaking out more than likely Wednesday morning.
Picking up where I left off last time...it sort of sounds like I won't be able to get out of radiation. They just have to be sure that all the cancer is gone (since I had two different kinds of breast cancer). However, since radiation has to be every day for 6 weeks with no break, they won't start until I get back from Hawaii the middle of December. So, I will have plenty of time to heal from the mastectomy before they start radiation. Then, reconstruction can't start for at least six months after radiation, to allow time for the tissue to heal.
I've consulted with three plastic surgeons, and have pretty much decided to go the route of a tram-flap. I'm not interested in implants and having something foreign in my body. The tram-flap is way more involved however. They will move tissue and from my abdominal area to form a new breast. It's a 6-8 hour operation, with a three to six week recovery because you're cut in two places. But that's way off right now. I just have to get through Wednesday and the next few weeks of being very sore.
My psychological well-being changes from day to day. Thursday was horrible. I've been going along, hoping to God that my insurance company wouldn't "drop the other shoe," and sure as shit they did. Bastards.
Remember in the beginning I opted to take part in a clinical trial? I did this to help womankind, and do my part to end this horrible disease. Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in my insurance stuff does it say anything about clinical trials. Well, they are saying that somewhere in the fine print in the company's employee handbook that it says they won't cover treatment under a clinical trial. What that means is they are threatening not to cover the chemotherapy which I couldn't even tell you what that adds up to.
Suffice it to say, I was devastated. I cried my eyes out, threw my cell phone, but now I'm just plain pissed. First off, I was never on any experimental drugs. Turned out I was the control person, so I had the standard protocol. Second, any extra tests they did, MRI's and so on, were not even billed to the insurance company. I told them that. Doesn't seem to matter - the fine print, is what it is. I totally do not have the strength to fight this alone, and I'm not. I've got people on it - the gal that represents Sound Publishing to the insurer, the social worker, my editor, and most importantly, Barry, the research nurse.
He called me late Friday and said he talked to the assholes at First Choice (my insurance company) and he said, "man, are they mean." He and Dr. Kaplan have never heard of this happening, or even seen it. He knows how afraid I am of going broke over this, and he told me, (and we'll wait and see), that they are going to squeeze whatever they can out of First Choice and then Swedish will pick up the rest. God, did that make my weekend more relaxing.
Still, I must say, insurance companies are all a bunch of crooks in my opinion. They sweet talk you, take your money, and then try to stick it to you. This country sucks when it comes to health care.
Nonetheless, I had a great weekend for a change. Friday night was the Washington Newpapers Association awards banquet, in Everett this year, so a bunch of us went. I had entered six stories, and I won second place in "News of the Weird" for a story I did about a human skull that was found at an estate sale. Figures, I'd win in the weird category! But it was a fun time. Then last night, my old pal Linell, who I have known since the 7th grade, and a friend of hers, Pat, met me for a lovely dinner at Etta's. They bought me an early birthday dinner, so that was very sweet. Pat is a survivor, and had some valuable advice for me. I was so grateful. Then I met up with my pal Isaac for a couple of drinks, and we got caught up, which was a lot of fun. And, I had a good massage yesterday, too.
So, this insurance thing is really bugging me. But they picked the wrong person to fuck with. I've worked my whole life. I'll be 55 on Tuesday. They are not going to ruin my life.
Picking up where I left off last time...it sort of sounds like I won't be able to get out of radiation. They just have to be sure that all the cancer is gone (since I had two different kinds of breast cancer). However, since radiation has to be every day for 6 weeks with no break, they won't start until I get back from Hawaii the middle of December. So, I will have plenty of time to heal from the mastectomy before they start radiation. Then, reconstruction can't start for at least six months after radiation, to allow time for the tissue to heal.
I've consulted with three plastic surgeons, and have pretty much decided to go the route of a tram-flap. I'm not interested in implants and having something foreign in my body. The tram-flap is way more involved however. They will move tissue and from my abdominal area to form a new breast. It's a 6-8 hour operation, with a three to six week recovery because you're cut in two places. But that's way off right now. I just have to get through Wednesday and the next few weeks of being very sore.
My psychological well-being changes from day to day. Thursday was horrible. I've been going along, hoping to God that my insurance company wouldn't "drop the other shoe," and sure as shit they did. Bastards.
Remember in the beginning I opted to take part in a clinical trial? I did this to help womankind, and do my part to end this horrible disease. Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in my insurance stuff does it say anything about clinical trials. Well, they are saying that somewhere in the fine print in the company's employee handbook that it says they won't cover treatment under a clinical trial. What that means is they are threatening not to cover the chemotherapy which I couldn't even tell you what that adds up to.
Suffice it to say, I was devastated. I cried my eyes out, threw my cell phone, but now I'm just plain pissed. First off, I was never on any experimental drugs. Turned out I was the control person, so I had the standard protocol. Second, any extra tests they did, MRI's and so on, were not even billed to the insurance company. I told them that. Doesn't seem to matter - the fine print, is what it is. I totally do not have the strength to fight this alone, and I'm not. I've got people on it - the gal that represents Sound Publishing to the insurer, the social worker, my editor, and most importantly, Barry, the research nurse.
He called me late Friday and said he talked to the assholes at First Choice (my insurance company) and he said, "man, are they mean." He and Dr. Kaplan have never heard of this happening, or even seen it. He knows how afraid I am of going broke over this, and he told me, (and we'll wait and see), that they are going to squeeze whatever they can out of First Choice and then Swedish will pick up the rest. God, did that make my weekend more relaxing.
Still, I must say, insurance companies are all a bunch of crooks in my opinion. They sweet talk you, take your money, and then try to stick it to you. This country sucks when it comes to health care.
Nonetheless, I had a great weekend for a change. Friday night was the Washington Newpapers Association awards banquet, in Everett this year, so a bunch of us went. I had entered six stories, and I won second place in "News of the Weird" for a story I did about a human skull that was found at an estate sale. Figures, I'd win in the weird category! But it was a fun time. Then last night, my old pal Linell, who I have known since the 7th grade, and a friend of hers, Pat, met me for a lovely dinner at Etta's. They bought me an early birthday dinner, so that was very sweet. Pat is a survivor, and had some valuable advice for me. I was so grateful. Then I met up with my pal Isaac for a couple of drinks, and we got caught up, which was a lot of fun. And, I had a good massage yesterday, too.
So, this insurance thing is really bugging me. But they picked the wrong person to fuck with. I've worked my whole life. I'll be 55 on Tuesday. They are not going to ruin my life.
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