Raindrops on Roses

Hi friends! Four a.m. seems like the perfect time to write after a two-month hiatus, don'tcha think? I'm rounding the last lap of chemo, with only two weeks to go! I can't pinpoint the reason for absence of writings, but it could have something to do with a lack of ability to articulate my thoughts in words, those lovely neurotoxins, perhaps... or perhaps a tired mind. Chemo is quite a good place to be, relatively - at least, it provides the illusion of progress, and at most, it actually fulfills its service. Unfortunately, this bender is coming to an end, and I must face the reality of quarterly exams and wait for the results with sweat on my palms.

This three months of treatments, which have been every Wednesday, has been quite different in nature than the first three months. Taxol and Herceptin are strange substances. The cocktail leaves me hyper and talkative (i.e., not me) on days one and two, and I mostly pull college hours on Wednesdays, hitting the pillow around 7am. I'm productive. But everyone has been walking on eggshells around me, as I develop a severe case of irritabilities on this weekly cycle. The decadron (steroids) gives me a lovely breakout rash come Thursdays, and my ravishing appetite has gifted me some extra pounds. I'm weighing in at my heaviest - 67 kilos as of yesterday - just about 148 pounds. It's depressing. But this is it. I have no nausea, no lethargy, nothing of the likes of the first three months of chemo. My hair is coming back, but it's still not me in the mirror. I did buy two funtastic wigs. But sometimes they make me cry. I hate looking like a drag queen. But there is a good side, I suppose. When I get nostalgic and peruse through the photos of the past two years, I can see myself a bit more objectively, through a stranger's eyes. And I really deserved to treat myself with a higher esteem. I promise to do myself better in the future. Hooray for self esteem.

In boob news, I finally healed and started to have the injections in the tissue expanders. Doc will keep pumping me up until radiation starts, which should be upon completion of chemo, I am assuming. I won't be having my final reconstruction (that boob job I've been advertising) until six months after radiation is complete. I am not too happy to wait this long, but apparently he can't do it any sooner because the tissue will not be healthy enough.

So, in summary, here's what's left:
- Chemo: 2 weeks!!!!!!
- Herceptin: 9 months after chemo, every 3 weeks
- Radiation: 5 1/2 weeks, every day
- Breast reconstruction surgery: 6 months after radiation is complete
- And finally: Removal of the power port, after herceptin is done

In total: About nine months and three weeks left. I'm staying strong, I really am. I'm even proud of me.

Yew and me

enchanted by Cate

Monday was to be a magnificent day. I was scheduled to go in to the Breast Cancer Center and have a few blood tests and a chemo teach, then meet with the study director to get myself enrolled in ALLTO that same day. Low and behold, another pothole in the road! Someone screwed up when they ordered my tests last week. While I was indeed supposed to have the ECHOcardiogram (a sonogram of the heart), I was also supposed to have an EKG (ELECTROcardiogram). My bad - I thought the echo was an EKG, but hey, I'm no doctor. And then they said I needed it done the same day to get into the study. I was fuming! Too many administrative mistakes with these people, and then they make absurd excuses instead of fessing up. There is not one character trait that I hate more than a dirty little liar. A poor one, at that. So, we ran around all day, working out the kinks and getting things done. And they did.

Tuesday, I received the news about the study. I made it into the group that receives only Herceptin, which is the standard of treatment without the study. I was randomized, and fate (in the form of a computer) led me on this path. I am content with fate's decision and am rather comfortable not being a guinea pig (though I would have done that as well). I am happy to contribute to medical science in this instance. Most importantly, not being in one of the Lapatinib groups leaves the door open for, knock on wood, using the Lapatanib in the future should it be necessary to further my treatment.

Come today, I started off the day (early!! 5:15a.m.) with some fresh-squeezed OJ, hecho con amor, and a delicious pita with almond butter and Bonne Maman strawberry jam. Yum! A delicious way to start out the day. We headed to the doctor for my 8:30 appointment and I had my first infusion of the new drugs - Decadron and a hideous amount of Benadryl to negate an allergy to the chemo, Taxol, and Herceptin (the hormone therapy). Taxol is "a complex di-terpene purified from the bark and needles of the Pacific yew tree. Approximately one gram of pure taxol is available from three to four trees, each 60 to 100 years old." Thank you, yew tree. I owe you one.

I was stuck at the doctor, literally, until 2pm! It was a long infusion day, since they do it very slowly the first time around. Herein starts the treatments once a week, though next week will be the normal three hours.

My favorite cousin Dani and my new cousin-in-law Victor are here from San Diego, and we're about to have some authentic homemade Mexican cuisine... so I'm off to be a glutton... chao, amorcitos!

Results

I'm half asleep and look like I was punched in both eyes last night. My endocrinologist, the darling that he is, just called with good and better news. The nodule is benign! He got enough cells to confirm. We all exhaled a big sigh of relief and shed a little happy tear. Smiles, everyone!

Biopsy news

Not much in the mood for writing (crying myself a river) but here's the update on today's events. We headed to downtown Fort Lauderdale for a visit with my new endocrinologist. Nice guy. My thyroid blood test results that had been drawn a few weeks ago show normal thyroid function. He did an ultrasound and he said the margins of the nodule look good. No funny business. He didn't see any calcifications. Then I had a few (four) biopsies. They were super easy, like the prick from getting blood drawn. (Well, the second one was a little more painful, but I'm not complaining. It only happened that way because I bragged that the first one didn't hurt.) It was a summer breeze compared to the hell of the breast biopsies. Those results should be in Friday, but he is not confident that they will be conclusive. Why, you ask? My nodule is highly vascular, so he's not sure if there are any applicable cells in the samples. It may just end up being blood. (Bon appetit!). He wants to put me on iodine treatment for a week and have me come back in for more biopsies (honestly, not a worry to me except for the time delay). He is going to consult with my oncologist to approve that and also to check with the director of the medical study to see if I can get by with the information to date. So, we're going to stop by on Friday and see if there's any biopsy news. Technically, I'm supposed to have my next chemo treatment on Monday, but I'm not optimistic that it will all fall into place by then. Without being too positive (which always backfires on me), I will say that I'm not worried about the thyroid at this time.

...


If you're dying of boredom or completely obsessed with me (or perhaps just curious), here are the links to two other blogs I have written in the past - the first, my adventures in Costa Rica; the second, my adventures in wedding planning.

Your Ad Here: http://jdangelo.blogspot.com/
A Wedding in Istanbul: http://aweddinginistanbul.blogspot.com/

Buenas noches y amor a todos!

Biopsy

La Vida Continua

(Insert photo here)

We went out on a Friday night! Wow, it actually resembled something I once knew... a social life! I haven't been much in the mood to talk to people lately. In fact, I've been downright grumpy and mean to everyone. Even to strangers. And that's just not me. I can be mean to the people I love, but being snappy with strangers?? Who does that? Anyway, I figure avoiding the interaction will prevent the attitude, in turn eliminating the guilt of being an a-hole. So, that's why most of the past few weeks I've spent as a couch fungus watching back-to-back recorded episodes of What Not to Wear. Well, a spark of motivation kicked in, we showered, and we put on civilized people clothes. It was quite a good feeling. In any case, we had us some good ol' fashioned Broward county fun. (Dinner in a shopping plaza.)

I have been a mere silhouette of my former self with regards to music. We once had a deep, loving relationship, and that has all but withered to dust. But, Shelly triggered something deep inside me, even if only for tonight. She mentioned that they like to frequent shows in Miami, namely the Spam Allstars!! Hellloo, I freaking loved the Spam Allstars! I've seen them a gajillion times, and just the fact that I haven't even thought of them in at least a year is pathetic. It was a revelation, and I hope it sticks.

Root Beer Float Me

1 chilled pint glass
1 cold bottle Virgil's root beer
2-3 scoops Haagen Daaz 5 vanilla bean ice cream

Pour the root beer down the side until 2/3 full. Drop in the scoops and watch me foam. Eat me with a long-handled spoon and smile.

EKG

done!

Next on the agenda is the thyroid biopsy, which is scheduled for a week from now... theoretically, assuming an efficient system with competent and knowledgeable workers (ha!). I had to push paper today, 9 to 5, just to get a fifteen-minute sonogram. Hallelujah, today's work is done.

Thoughts

I'd rather be...

- Basking in ablution, nightswimming in a placeless pool, on a warm summer night, with my ethereal, long locks floating in the water

- Fifteen pounds slimmer, in a bikini, soaking in some rays on a Costa Rican beach eating a warm, juicy, ripe mango freshly picked from that tree over there, juice dripping down my face

- Smoking a cigarette and drinking a cold beer, anywhere, saying fuck it all with a smile on my face

- Sitting next to the radiator, drinking mediocre black tea, one lump of sugar, crossing the Bosphorus by slow ferry on a crisp, sunny winter's day admiring the view out the window

These times are trying for me. And for everyone within a five-foot radius. Most of the time I'm feeling like I've got this thing licked. Then there comes another bucket of water right over my head. It's really not a big deal, I suppose. I'm done with that first three months of chemo. For the second three months, I was planning to partake in the ALLTO medical study, a dual-therapy trial specific to the type of breast cancer I had. Rewind to a few months ago, there was a CT scan that found a nodule on my thyroid (which are very common, though mine is quite large). So, I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to see an endocrinologist, the waiting based on insurance hobblegobble. I *finally* was able to get an appointment for July 24 so in due process this back-burner minutiae was supposed to disappear into the rearview mirror, in my little fantasy brain thought. Well, the message was relayed to me today that in order to do this study they are requesting a biopsy on this nodule. Biopsy - an acquaintance of the C word. Can someone please get me out of this box of hell?!

My oncologist had previously mentioned that I couldn't do the thyroid biopsy after I started the chemo, and although she wanted me to see a specialist, she said it probably wasn't a big deal. And she doesn't think it's cancer because breast cancer does not metastasize to the thyroid. Anyway, the relayed message infers that she gave the go-ahead for the biopsy so I guess it's not a biggie. I am also scheduled to have my three-month EKG in the morning. Here's to hoping for good results! *clink*

Savannah

Gainesville & Micanopy

And I finally got a bicycle

Due to popular demand - popularity based solely on the six previous comments - I am back in business. For today. So, I got bored with writing the blog. There hasn't been much going on medically and I didn't want to just blah blah blah my way through just to put up some words. Sometimes you feel like writing, and sometimes you don't. Today is a semi-feel-like-writing day. A lot has happened in the past few weeks. We went on a getaway to Gainesville and Savannah. It was super! I hadn't been back to Gainesville for about three years (wow, that long?), and there wasn't anyone in particular that warranted a visit. I just wanted to bring Celal to my last real home in the States - I lived there eight years! - and give an overview tour. We stayed at a great B&B, Sweetwater Branch Inn. So cute! And we got a great deal since we did everything last minute. And who doesn't love a good deal? (I'm quite the cheapskate these days.) We ate delish sushi at Dragonfly, the best sushi on the planet. I didn't have any raw fish (except the roe) and I didn't dip in soy, if ya'll are wondering. Must eat Godzilla roll. Heaven in your mouth. "Smoked eel, crab, cream cheese, cucumber, scallions, and roe, topped with slices of avocado and strawberry." And the crab wontons.

Savannah was the charming darling we had imagined, and boy did we eat our way through that place... I had reflux after a few meals and my Nexium had a big sad face on it every one of those days. Those southerners know how to cook up some good fixins. Sadly, the place we stayed there was shiteous and unromantic, and the staff were full-on twilight zone freaks. However, it had a great location a stone's throw from the Mercer house (Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil) and Forsyth Park. And it was also a good deal.

My faves in Savannah... the trees, depression glass windows, the groomed and ungroomed ivy on the building and walls and steps, Leopold's ice cream shop, a funny eight-foot-unicycle comedian that put on an amazingly hilarious show (one of his milder jokes: "Sir, is that your wife or are you on a business trip?"), socialite southerners in weddings, Baptist quartets, the historical architecture, and delicious grits and seafood.

Anywho, for those still paying attention to my treatment, I am finishing my last lap of the first half of chemo!! Cue the confetti!! Today was my last dose of AC chemo (adriamycin, cytoxan) -which was the regiment for the first three months - and my second segment of the treatment (also will be three months) will begin at the end of this month. July 27th to be exact. So, I am almost halfway there! Yes, I am really this excited about almost being halfway there.

I did take some Savannah photos, but you see, I'm out of practice... I will not be lazy and I'll put some up in a jiffy. Please don't judge me.

P.S. - Anonymous commenter, please identify yourself! :)

On the road

I just had a completely satisfactory evening out in Gainesville.

Life is good

Hey there! It's been so long! How have you been? I'm taking a hiatus from the cancer life, hence the lack of updates on the blog. I hope you are all enjoying my vacation as much as I am! I'll be back in the office next week...

I Love My Mommy

We pick on my mom. A lot. It's fun! And I think she likes it sometimes. Until we make her cry. Well, we made her cry yesterday. She insisted that I not post this story to the blog, but she knows that I will anyway.

I had my second chemo yesterday, and it's always a task for me to keep the children in line while we're at the doctor's office - said children being my mom and husband. My mom likes to get therapy sessions from the nurses and doctors by asking questions to which we already know the answers, and husband likes to make sure to take care of the business end of things. Anyway, when I finally get them to sit and play Blowfish and Brain Tuner on their iPhones, all is good. (Except when my mom thinks it's funny to call the game Brain Tumor instead. Not really appropriate at a Breast Cancer Center.) But once it's time to switch rooms, the chaos picks back up. So, yesterday it was time for me to get settled into my chemo recliner cubicle. (I would also like to mention that I'm the only person that travels with an entourage... most patients are either alone or bring one significant other that behaves well in public places.)

So, I took my seat, and there were no other chairs in the room just yet - meaning I was having a hard time keeping them in line. My mom in all her nervousness opted to prepare herself a decaf coffee across the way. Since my recliner has a little side table, she put it there. But, the bottom of the styrofoam cup wasn't sitting flat (it was likely warped from the coffee being too hot). So, she picked it up to look at the bottom, except she did this with the coffee dangling just about over my chest area. I reprimanded her for thirty seconds about the dangers of hot coffee spilling onto chemo patients, and we gave her a chair to sit in. A minute later a perplexed look hit my face and I said, "Mom, you don't even drink coffee! What are you doing?!" and she started giggling. She didn't know. I think she was just trying to keep busy. So, she started playing with her iPhone again.

Then she came up with a better idea to pass the time: "Celal, I want to check the level of your head!" He still didn't have a chair, so she stood up and took her iPhone in one hand, leveler app open. How this makes any sense, I do not know. She was having a good time, but we were both wondering what the hell she was doing. Then in a split moment someone flinched. And the hot coffee that was in her other hand poured down Celal's right side - his hair, his arm, his shirt, his iPhone (which was broken for a good two hours), all over my purse and the wall behind, some on my leg. Celal said, "you burned me!" My mom insisted that she didn't burn him and that the coffee wasn't hot. I told him to go to the bathroom to rinse with cold water. After the nurse gave us some towels to help with the mess, my mom came back in and said to Celal, "I think I burned my hand."

The coffee was hot and shocking, but neither of them was burned. Somehow, I got blamed for making my mom nervous, so I aptly apologized for having cancer. Then she cried about how we always pick on her. Mom, you know we love you just the way you are.

Banana Bread

The banana bread was edible, and somewhat good! I need to work on the recipe a bit because I overcompensated in the adjustments of the butter / flour when I added the agave, and it ended up drying out and browning too much. I am also not used to using a dark loaf pan (I use glass) so that may have contributed to the browning. I am still hopeful for the next batch! If I ever perfect it, I'll be sure to post the recipe. For now, here is the original recipe in all it's buttery sugary glory.

Banana Bread

3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 1/8 cup sugar

1 cup mashed overripe (or ripe) banana

2 eggs, room temperature

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

Preheat the oven to 325F (162C). Combine flour, baking soda, and salt in a bowl, and whisk together. Butter a loaf pan. Set aside.

Cream the butter in a large bowl for about one minute. Add the sugar, and continue to cream for two minutes. Add the eggs and vanilla extract and mix for about two minutes so the eggs get a little fluffy. Mix in the mashed banana until well incorporated.

Add the dry ingredients to the banana mixture, and stir by hand until just incorporated. Do not overmix. Pour the batter into the loaf pan, and bake for about 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The bread will have a dark brown crust. Let the banana bread cool overnight before eating.

45 Minutes in Istanbul

My aunt sent me this video she found, Lonely Planet Six Degrees: Istanbul. It's 45 minutes long, but a good glimpse at some great sights around the city. There's a crazy taxi driver, the ubiquitous plastic shoe covers a la quarantine... I'm still watching, but I have a feeling it's going to be interesting. Enjoy!

Jen's Favorite Things

My diet is under serious renovation. And it's not easy. I was one of many women with breast cancer that had an estrogen-positive tumor, meaning it was feeding its grimy little cells on all the estrogen it could get, including food sources. (This is quite a controversial subject in the scientific community.) The likely number one food source enhancing my tumor growth was SOY. Yes, the conniving soy. If I had known, I wouldn't have eaten all that delicious Chinese food! And edamame! And spicy tuna rolls dipped in wasabied soy sauce... and the list goes on. Frown. Well, I have read my food labels for too many years now, and I've never been too wary of soy ingredients, because, hey, soy was my friend. Soy is healthy, right? That's what I thunked. And it was wrong, for me. That's not the end - soy is just one of the many plants that has natural estrogens... there's an exhaustive list of foods including tomatoes, garlic, apples, carrots, olive oil... I really would have to cease eating to avoid estrogen. But it's not only estrogen foods that affect me ... There is this other important friend I have: sugar...

We try to eat organic and cook at home from scratch as much as possible. But it's not feasible to do 100% of the time. We don't grow our own vegetables. We don't live in a hippie commune. We're quasi-lazy. So, we sometimes eat out (gasp!). And we eat refined and packaged foods (double gasp!). The doctors told me to avoid excess soy. I read this as avoid soy at all costs!! So now I'm the self-proclaimed head of the Anti-Soy Commission (a branch of the Nonclinically Insane Institute). If you're one of those people that reads labels, then you might be aware of the infiltration of soy into our food supply. Soy is the "Made in China" of food. It's everywhere, and you can't avoid it. And I'm not going to place all the blame on soy. Because the other half of the battle is my nearest and dearest: sugar. Without sugar, there is no joy in life. But I've had to compromise and cut back. My sugar addiction is a bit of an exaggeration - I don't sit around all day eating Krispy Kreme. But I have had to considerably axe a lot of sugar from my diet. My newest weapon and favorite new thing is Agave Nectar. Oprah's already got this one covered by Dr. Oz (who is Turkish! Yay, Turkishness!). I was skeptical. I thought it would taste like a barfy maple syrup honey goo. But I was floored when I tasted a little drop on my finger. It tastes like simple syrup! Sugar! All I have to do now is learn how to use it as a replacement in cooking. And as I write, there is a (notably organic) loaf of banana bread baking in the oven, made with agave nectar and a dash of love. I hope all of my dreams come true. Agave, don't let me down!

The Other Day

The posed pirate look

Inspiration

I'm almost bald, blah blah blah... what I really want to post is this great interview with our wedding photographer, Bartosz Jastal. If you hadn't followed our wedding blog, you might not know that I was fanatical about finding the perfect wedding photographer (of course within a reasonable budget!). In my hours of research, I found a great resource -- the WPJA -- which consists of some of the best wedding photographers out there. Somehow, fate brought us to work with Bartosz and he flew in from Poland to shoot our wedding. We had the perfect day, and we were very happy with the pictures. (They only get better in time.) Of course, it being our wedding day and all, we didn't have much time to hang out and get to know him personally (as I would have loved!). So, it made me really happy tonight to have seen this lengthy and informative interview with him. He gives insight into his style, process, and inspiration, and he even mentions our wedding shoot!

The Interview

Bartosz's Gallery Site

Bartosz's Blog

Cheese

My mom begged us for a few photos, and we made sure they were extra cheesy!

G.I. Jen

Jen shaved her head. And needs some new lip gloss.

Strands

Hola,

I just arrived from the bathroom. Because we're personal like that. I was running my hands through my hair and I'm able to get a hair, maybe two, almost every time! Maybe I should be savoring my hair strands when they're actually attached to my head, but it's just too exciting to wait. Or maybe I'm just a little too curious to see if it falls out in chunks. The truth: I'm anxious to look like a damn chemo patient already, because I don't think I've convinced anyone just yet. My mom has been pulling my hair about ten times a day for the past week in disbelief: "It's really in there! I don't think it's coming out. I really don't think it's coming out." Well, we're on Day 15 now. It's time to get through this and move along.

In unrelated news, today was a good day. It just was. Believe me.

<3

Me

The Smell of a Civilized Person

The swelling is no problem. The doctor didn't even notice it and there is no redness so I suppose it will just go away. I'm not too concerned with that matter now. What I am preoccupied with is this unruly incision gap. I haven't been able to get it wet (no full showers in weeks, people!) so it had formed a vomit-worthy golden crust from the antibiotic cream I was told to use. The doctor gently tweezed it off along with the remaining surgical glue and there was a great disappointment underneath. The wound has not pulled itself together, and we're running out of options. He prescribed some Betadine swabs twice a day and another week on these damn antibiotics. I hate taking so many antibiotics! (But it sure beats having an infection.)

What I want to try next week, if this week is unfruitful, is to apply a fresh papaya paste to the area. Papaya is practically a miracle fruit and can do wonders for healing wounds. (I once had deep scratches on my face when my cat tried to climb me like a tree and I swear if it wasn't for the papaya it would have scarred.) This thought popped into my head after we left his office, of course, so I didn't have a chance to run it by him, but I'm sure when I propose this next week he's going to have a giant question mark over his head. Regardless, I would still prefer to run it by him before self-prescribing.

Did I mention that I haven't showered in weeks? And I stopped using deodorant with aluminum (i.e., I stopped using deodorant that works)? I wash my hair in the kitchen sink, I bathe with a washcloth and the running tap, and there is a permanent funk emanating from my armpits that won't give up no matter how much I wash. This is the secret of my newfound obsession with all things soap. I am just trying to smell like a civilized person. Minimizing the spread of infection - that's just a happy coincidence.

Hand Soap: Part 2

Today was a productive soap day! I had an appointment over by Whole Foods so we stopped in to pick up a few things. I happened upon this luxurious hand soap, so I thought I'd share it with the world. I actually bought the Vanilla & Sweet Orange scent, but the below scent is equally as, if not more, tantalizing. Unfortunately, the scent doesn't last long, but it makes for a very pleasant hand washing experience. I suppose that's what you get when you buy this hippie vegan crap. Anyway, I love it and it makes me happy.

In other news, my right boob has independently decided to swell larger than normal today, and I am quite worried. I am thinking it has to do with my lymph nodes not clearing some fluid. Perhaps I used my right arm too much today? I am begging for sleep to be the cure. Maybe I shouldn't be writing about how well things are going and should keep strictly focused on complaining. Somehow the evil eyes always find their way back to me.

Hand Soap

Day 8 is coming to a close and things are going very well. I couldn't have had better news at the doctor today. My blood labs came back completely normal and my white blood cell count is excellent (thanks to the Neulasta shot they give on Day 2). I was told that this is pretty much the gist of how it's going to be. This is chemo? Really? I am quite surprised at how relatively mild it's been. I haven't had to take anti-nausea pills in a few days, and my appetite is great. I had no bone pain with the Neulasta shot, and no mouth sores. They also said the AC portion of the chemo (the first three months) is more aggressive so it should be easier the second three months. I consider myself VERY lucky! I can only hope that it all goes as planned. Of course, I still have to deal with the hair loss in a week or two, but I think I'm prepared for it. As soon as it starts falling out, I'm ready to shave it (anyone want to join in the fun?). I'm not sure I can pull off bald - I looked like an alien child with no hair until I was two - but it's only six months and I hear my hair may even come back thicker. I've been collecting scarves here and there, as well as received many as gifts (including beautiful recycled vintage saris!). I also noticed a lot of women on chemo wear giant hoop earrings to complete the pirate look, so I may have to look into getting a pair of those as well.

Since I have recently become a professional hand washer, I decided to spend Sunday on a mission to begin my collection of liquid hand soaps. I knew that the Softsoap and CVS antibacterial soap (with evil Triclosan!) were doing a number on my hands because I have small patches of contact dermatitis (I was berated by the nurse today for going a little overboard with the handwashing...). So, I did a little research and unfortunately found something called cosmeticsdatabase.com which rates many popular cosmetic items on a scaled from 1-10, including hand soaps and body washes. This is the site to use if you want to go completely insane! Most of the acceptable green range items (0-2 rating) are impossible to find in the store, and I certainly cannot buy soap online without first smelling it. Anyway, I finally was able to buy one in the green range, and it's the best hand soap ever! And they're discontinuing it. And the ingredient list is completely different from the database, rendering it a failure. (The matching hand lotion has a score of 8.) I think I may have to give up on cosmeticsdatabase.com and go back to being normal. Ho-hum.

If anyone has any suggestions for delicious smelling and gentle hand soaps, please let me know!

Day 4

Days 3 and 4 have been a doozy. I ended up taking some anti-nausea pills and they kicked my butt, so I have been in nap-time mode. I try to keep my energy up by taking a walk after dinner, but still feeling a little low on the energy. My appetite is waning, but I'm still eating as much as I was before, just trying to fill up with a lot of nutrients/fruits/veggies since I'm not allowed to take a multivitamin. When neutropenia kicks in (somewhere between Day 7-12) I'll be at the low point as far as WBC count, which is when I'll be most susceptible to infection so I have to be extra careful with my diet (no raw food unless prepared at home, peeled, and certified by the health department).

I also wanted to fill in the information gap about the incision separation. I never got my boobs pumped up because of this issue and we must wait for it to heal first. My boob doctor put me on more antibiotics (the fourth round since surgery!) and I'll see him in a week. We are just hoping that this skin heals itself because if the tissue expander has to come out I'm not sure I want to think about what that road entails as far as reconstruction. I don't want mangled boobies.

My mom keeps asking if I remembered to take this pill or that pill... I told her, look, I have one responsibility in life right now and that is to take drugs (well, that, and washing my hands obsessively). On the spectrum of responsibility, I would say I have this covered. It's really hard to believe that someone like me, the girl who doesn't like to take a tylenol for a headache, has become such a pharmaceutical conglomerate, but such is life. If it's what it takes to kill the cancer in my body, so be it. Four days down and many to go... it's not so bad.

Chemo: Day 2

Hi there! I'm still here, fret not. I haven't been much in the mood for writing, and still am not really, but figured I owe it to the people. We've got smiles on our faces most days, hanging in there. As far as updates, I'll keep it to a few.

Firstly, I wanted to mention my mother's amazing friends. They have donated a pretty penny to me to assist with my financial needs, and it is very humbling. They started a non-profit fund called Friends of Jen and have really spread the word around. They held an Applebee's night for fundraising. We also joined in the festivities and I was the celebrity of the evening. Anyway, I don't know how to say thank you beyond just those words. So, thank you all for everything you are doing.

I was supposed to start chemo last Thursday, but I went with my gut feeling and didn't start for a number of reasons. I had an allergic reaction and a huge, itchy rash from the Chloraprep they used to place my port. So, I was still on Benadryl at that point. It was the second day of my period, and I had mere ounces of energy. I had been to my plastic surgeon the day before, and he scared the pants off of me. There is a segment of the incision from surgery on my right breast that hasn't healed properly and the skin is slightly separated and open. (Ahh!) He said he may have to remove the tissue expander from that side if it becomes exposed, which is a possibility. Anyway, I was freaking out a bit about it, wondering how he could perform this surgery while I'm on chemo, and how could it possibly heal... so I decided to postpone until Monday.

I couldn't be happier with my decision to wait a few days. My incision has made a slight improvement (though it's far from healed). I have a thousand times more energy, my rash is gone, the port is almost completely healed. I am off Benadryl. So, yesterday was the day. After a stack of paperwork, fire and brimstone, and an interrogation session with the same questions I've already been asked thousands of times... Are you pregnant? Do you have a living will? Do you have mental problems?... yes, you are making me crazy with all these forms! Just give me the damn chemo already!

They gave me a nice dose of happy juice and I was on my way, high as a kite. We would have watched a movie, had my mother not been in charge of the selection, so we'll have to be better prepared for next time. Luckily, they have a pretty nice setup there with a TV and a recliner. It was like being at a spa, and there was even a masseuse who gave me an amazing head and shoulder massage. I was in ecstasy.

So, I felt fine, ate a delicious spaghetti dinner homemade by my loving grandparents. Celal and I went for a leisurely walk around the hood just to boost my energy. Not long afterward, some slight nausea set in, and I was pooped and pale as a ghost. I lay down around 9:30pm and was out after one of my mom's special foot massages. (Is the past tense of lie lay? That verb is so confusing.) I woke up a few times, but had some nausea around 6am, ate a banana, and passed out again. My color is now back and I'm up and about as usual... I still have my hair, and haven't vomited yet so all-in-all I'm a happy camper. A six-month chemo camper. I'll try to be more diligent about keeping a log of my trip, and still working on those photos...

Hasta luego!

Also

I forgot to mention the best thing ever. Celal's mom bought me my dream lens, the 24-70 2.8L!! I am so spoiled and lucky to have such a great mother-in-law. It's a bit heavy for me to use now, but I plan on adding some photos to spice up the blog soon...

Straightforward update

Doctor things are slowing down a bit, and becoming a lot more manageable. I have some testing this Friday (brain MRI, thyroid ultrasound) and normal life in between! It's pure loveliness. I have sloughed off some of my melancholy since the last post, and the butterflies have calmed a bit. There was one hiccup yesterday when Celal and I were driving to the doctor - we were listening to the radio and heard our first dance song from the wedding, so we looked at each other and started to ball. It was rough, but it passed and we're laughing and goofy yet again.

Chemo is not starting Monday, but it will likely start sometime next week. What I do have Monday is a chemo training course (hopefully easier than CELTA!), which will freak me out about all the things I can and cannot do while taking chemo. I've heard that I can't shave my legs with a razor because I might cut myself and then I'll get a horrible infection and then it's all downhill from there. Well, luckily I have an electric razor, but there's this thing I've heard about all my hair falling out? So why would I even be worried about shaving in the first place. Speaking of which, I tried on some wigs today. I'm not in love with any of them, certainly not the Bret Michaels hairstyles the lady put on me, but there was one or two that will do.

There are a lot of changes coming this week. Celal's uncle and cousin are coming to visit, then everyone (including his mom) is leaving on Sunday. We are going to miss them so much! My mom and his mom are two peas in a pod. They are so cute together (as I write, they are in the other room giggling like teenagers). Monday, I get my boobs pumped up for the first time (I hope it's not too painful!) and then the chemo course. Then on Tuesday, Grandpa and Grandma D are coming. I'm so excited for their visit, I can't wait!

Germophobes unite!

I'm sure you can all assume why there haven't been many messages recently. I can hear it myself in my writing voice ("oh no, I lost my tail again..."). I can't even think straight most of the time. I'm not myself anymore and I'm trying to figure out exactly how to be me again, to find my way through this. As of now, it's just one second at a time. The best times are when I can laugh, or when I can forget this mess we're in. Those times don't come easy, but I hope in time they will. I am living with butterflies in my stomach. Chemo will start in eight days. I'm coming prepared with a can of Lysol in one hand and hand sanitizer in the other.

I am the constant observer, and now I've been thrown in the center with my arms and legs flailing. This is not me! This is not happening! I'm still swimming against the current... and trying to accept the things that I cannot change (not to sound too prophetic). I have an overwhelming amount of support, and it is quite humbling. I have met wonderful breast cancer survivors through my mom and they give me the hope that I need. Many people have been through this, and I can do it too! That's as positive as I can be right now.

As far as my recovery from surgery, I have a long way to go but making progress every day. I still can't sleep through the night. I wake up about four times just from lack of comfort, since I can only sleep in one position. The tissue expanders are really uncomfortable and heavy, and I'm still sore and swollen. Thankfully, I haven't been sneezing a lot, but when I do, it feels like the seams are going to burst. I can't lift my arms above shoulder level, so still have to put clothes on from the bottom up. On a positive note, I can finally take showers, almost entirely by myself! I can wash my own hair! I can open and close the car door and put on my seatbelt. It's all in slow motion, but it's a relief after having two weeks in need of constant service and maintenance.

I am loving the small boob look, and not sure I'll go much larger. For those who haven't seen me yet, they're about a large A-cup. I'm planning on getting about a mid-B. It's great to not have to wear a bra! Small boobs are the best, just like I thought! I know, I'm in the minority of women who actually prefers smaller boobies, but I think they're cute and easy. The only problem is that my fat arse and belly have made themselves clear. But I'm guessing the chemo will take care of that...

Well, I'm off for now. I'm having a tough time with my writing flow in this state of mind, up and down, all around.

Hasta pronto!

Feeling a Little Hopeful

I'm feeling a lot better after letting it all out. Wow, what a day we've had. One day at a time... now I'm off to pick out a butch hairstyle!

It's been almost two weeks now since surgery. I haven't wanted to blog because I've been depressed, I was in pain, and I couldn't type. I don't know how to be positive anymore. I am broken down and beaten up. Today, we saw my oncologist to find out about the treatment plan. It's like there is no end to this nightmare that my life has become.

My cancer was "stage III" - 6cm tumor and one positive lymph node (out of 23 total). The treatment is aggressive.

We were expecting to be out of here in six months or so. But my treatment will be a year and three months: six months of chemo, plus nine months to finish the herceptin. After that, I will have radiation, so add on to that. Then another few (5) years of hormone therapy. So, not only do we have this cancer thing to deal with, but our lives are rearranged. We have to be concerned about Celal's visa situation. Perhaps we'll have to deal with getting a greencard so he can work. We may rent an apartment and set up a new life here. I need to figure out the financial end of paying for all of this treatment without health insurance in the States. There is a lot on my shoulders. I know it's all going to be fine, but right now it's a helluva lot to think about.

I just want to blink and make this all disappear. How can I be positive?? What is positive about this?? All I can do is cry right now and let it all out.

The Good News

My surgical oncologist called with the pathology results from the surgery. There was only one lymph node with cancer out of the seventeen she took from the right side. She also got all clean margins on the breast tissue. My diagnosis is formally Stage II. It looks like she got it all out. I will have more tests...

My mom can't spell anesthesia (and neither can I)

I can't type on my computer right now, so I'm dictating telegraph style. Moan, groan, take a deep breath...that's what I'm up to. Last night was pretty bad coming off of the anesthesia and morphine. I was so anxious and I'm still having mild hallucinations. They found cancer in the lymph nodes on the right side, so I'll be having chemo. My genetic tests for BRCA1 and BRCA2 were both negative. I'm not doing the Le Freumene test. I don't need to know. I'm just focusing on each second passing by and a speedy recovery. More to come soon...

Scared

Well, here we are, the night before surgery. I'm not exactly sure how to say a proper goodbye to the ladies. I just keep looking down. It's going to be super strange to wake up with a flat chest. Woah. This is it.

Today was craptastic. First of all, I slept three hours last night because I was pretty anxious. We woke up early, then showed up to the hospital at 8:30am to "register." We expected this to take all of one hour to set up a payment plan and talk with the anesthesiologist. HOWEVER, haha, we should have known better. The mafia mofos behind the desk pulled a grand heist and SEVEN arduous hours later, our negotiating powers had withered into dust and we handed over the plastic. I won't even go into how screwed up the medical system is in this country, or how the billing department lacks any remote sense of compassion for human life, but believe me I have a mouthful. Well, at least after all this we headed out to a Peruvian restaurant with my mom's friends and had a grand ol' time for a short while, and ate delicious ceviche.

I'm scared, but in the most irrational way. I'm tired and I can't sleep. I feel so much love around me, and it's all I need right now. I'm holding it close to my heart.

Winners

Congratulations to our First Annual I'm Getting a Boob Job Giveaway winners, Irfan & Elmas! Disfruta!

Wild and crazy kids

What can I say? I'm enjoying as much ignorance as I can get these days before my surgery. It's not as easy as it sounds, but I try. Last weekend, we made some rounds. My mom's friend has a sister who went through breast cancer a few years ago and used the same surgeons. She had offered for us to come over and talk with her. It's not really my kind of gig but it was nice of her to offer so we headed over there. She is really very sweet as is her husband, but I'm not sure if it made me feel better. She gave us a peep show and encouraged me to touch her breasts. (Awkward? Yes.). I got to hear some specifics about the procedure and the aftermath/recovery, including drains -- the thought of which still makes me gag. We left with a lot of pink stuff.

I'm not a support groupie type of person. I rely on my family and friends to get through tough times, and this is no different. The advice I keep hearing from everyone is to stay positive, stay positive, it's the most important thing. All I can say is that I'll do what I can and that's all I can do. I'm not thoroughly positive; I never have been and cancer is not about to change that. I'm pretty damn nervous about surgery and recovery, living in a painkiller fog. Who wouldn't be? I'm just a human being, and I have emotions... ups and downs, laughter and tears, pleasure and pain. Isn't that enough? But I think I understand. "Stay positive" is probably just everyone's way of saying "don't give up." And I'm not about to do that.

I have also received advice to get some baggy, button-down shirts for after surgery, so we have taken a few detours from the decor department to shop for those. It was really depressing! I headed to the men's section (suggested by others) and looked for the least masculine shirts. I moped through the racks. I mean, as if cutting off my breast didn't make me feel less feminine enough, now I have to start cross-dressing? Puh-lease. I bought one shirt and I was outta there. Then I went and bought a pretty dress to redeem myself as a woman.

We've done a few wild and crazy things. We went to Hard Rock and gambled away some hard-earned cash ($6!). I cut my hair off today (shoulder-length, so daring). And Celal finally bought a pair of sandals! Things are really tough around here, but we manage.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Most days I proclaim to be of Italian ancestry, but on rare occasion one might find out that my maternal grandmother is actually Irish. I had asked her a few months ago for my great grandmother's soda bread recipe, but it seems that she never wrote one down. Sad. :( Well, we were invited to a St. Patty's feast tonight and I was determined to make one (now that we have access to buttermilk!), so I scouted out the best traditional recipe I could find. We were at the doctor what seemed like all damn day (in reality a little over five hours), but finished up around 5pm and headed straight to the grocery store for the ingredients. I knew this would make us late, but I wasn't going without my bread! I was dreaming about it all day. Well, it came together in an hour, and it was exactly what I had wanted. Here is the recipe if anyone is interested in some wholesome brown bread. I'll go ahead and call it my great grandmother's recipe... Enjoy!

Brown Bread

from the Society for the Preservation of Irish Soda Bread

3 cups whole wheat flour

1 cup white cake flour

1 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsps baking soda

1 3/4 cups buttermilk

Preheat oven to 425F. Butter and flour a round cake pan. Sift together all the dry ingredients, then add the buttermilk. Mix in your Kitchenaid with the dough hook (or knead by hand on a floured surface) until the ingredients come together and are slightly elastic, but don't overmix. Pour it into the cake pan and cut a cross in the center. Cover it with an inverted cake pan (same size) and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the cake pan cover and bake for another 15 minutes. When you take it out, knock on the bottom of the loaf and it should sound hollow. Wrap the bread in a floursack towel and sprinkle some water on it to keep the bread moist. Let it cool a bit, and serve warm with butter.

April Fool!

It's been a good day for the psyche of myself and my entourage. Here within is a cut-and-dry post about the cancer agenda. I love lists, so let's make it a list:

#1. My surgery date is April 1st. Yay! Something to look forward to. I really hope they don't play any sick pranks on me. ("We had to take your arm during surgery... Hahaha, April Fool!" Maybe I've seen one too many episodes of Scrubs...

#2. Pre-op work tomorrow. Blood tests, x-rays, ekg. Fun times.

#3. MRI on Thursday. Hoping for some good news here.

#4. Cheeseburger, fries, and a small coke. (Yes, I am this corny.)

#5. We went to my oncologist today for the first time. I love her! (Just to note, the previous oncologist visit was for a second opinion.) She gave us a pretty detailed explanation of the treatment post-op. It is well within reality that I won't need chemo OR radiation at all after surgery! Of course, there are missing variables and they won't know more until after the MRI and surgery but here's the current evidence and prerequisites for chemo.

- I have extensive DCIS in my right breast. This is all within the mammary ducts, and is not technically considered cancer (it is more like a precursor and a great cause for concern). It is cancer, but it's not. Hard to describe. Anyway, once the DCIS jumps outside of the ducts, it is invasive cancer.

- One of my four biopsies showed a microscopic malignancy of invasive cancer. It showed 1mm of invasive DCIS out of a 1.6cm sample. The other biopsy in the right breast was benign - a fibroadenoma (not even DCIS). The other two biopsies were in the left breast, which do not show any DCIS.

- In order to go forward with chemo treatment, she will need to see at least a 1cm piece of invasive DCIS. She said they typically do not add up the pieces and generally will look at the largest piece they find. For example, if they find ten 1mm pieces of invasive DCIS, they probably won't do chemo. However, it is still subjective based on what they find.

So, technically speaking... they have only proven 1mm of invasive cancer... all this craziness over 1mm! Mind-blowing.

- For radiation, the prereqs are either (a) a 5cm chunk of DCIS, or (b) DCIS in the lymph nodes.

- According to my mammograms and ultrasounds, it's not looking like the DCIS has spread to the lymph nodes, but she won't know until surgery. Same with the DCIS (though it is definitely extensive, so I guess this is more likely than the chemo).

I'm too pooped to write more, but that's the gist of the medical mumbo-jumbo...

Hasta pronto!

(This "hasta" means until in Spanish, not sick in Turkish!)

1st Annual Giveaway

Welcome to the 1st Annual I'm Getting a Boob Job Giveaway! Due to the economic crisis and budget constraints, we won't be giving away free boobs. However, in appreciation of all your love and support, we would like to send you and a special friend to see the legendary Cuban group Buena Vista Social Club ... LIVE in Istanbul!

Buena Vista Social Club

Tuesday, April 28, 2009, 9pm

@ Santral Istanbul

How to Enter: Submit your name by *e-mail* to Jen or Celal before Friday, March 20, 2009. One winner will be selected at random, from a hat, and announced by Monday, March 23rd.

Prize details: Two floor tickets for Buena Vista Social Club. Flights and transportation not included :(

Odds of winning: Very good

Submit your entry today!

P.S. - The tickets have already been purchased and will go to waste if no one enters :(

Lack of self-control

Here it is.

Li-Fraumeni syndrome

I resisted this thought all day yesterday and today until I had it in written form on the blog. My mom asked what I was talking about. I caved in and looked it up and now I wish I hadn't. Jen's melancholy ensues... off to watch Jimmy Fallon.

Normal

My writer's block is creeping back (which is why I haven't kept a blog in so long...) but the phone calls are pouring in and I wanted to give an update on my ladies.

Time is no longer in slow motion and we're pretty much back to being normal Jen and Celal, aside from the fact that we now live with my mom and Pete and are both unemployed and, oh yeah, I still have cancer. My crying sessions are down to about 15 minutes every other day. I get a little melancholy now and again but we mostly stay busy so I don't have time to obsess. I've also managed to forego the early morning schedule and follow through with staying up late and sleeping in, just like the good ol' days (meaning, about three weeks ago). I still can't decide if I like Jimmy Fallon or not. But, as long as The Roots are pulling him along each night, I keep on watching.

Yesterday, Celal and I went down to Hollywood to the genetic counselor. She basically scared the pants off of me. We made a lovely cancer family tree. She mentioned something about Li Famini as a possibility (I'm not sure that it's spelled correctly because I refuse to look it up - it's really rare and it's not likely that I have it). But first is the test for BRCA1 and BRCA2, so I'm just going to start there and focus on that. She drew some blood and sent it off for a $3k genetic test and in four weeks we'll have the results. IF I test positive for either, it would have a lot of meaning. It would (1) answer the "why?" I have cancer (genetics), (2) show that I am also susceptible to various other cancers including ovarian and pancreatic, among others - so I would know to closely monitor for those, (3) allow my younger cousins to appropriately monitor themselves knowing there is a genetic tie, (4) help the oncologist to plan my post-op therapy, since there are certain treatments that work better for the genetic-based breast cancer, and (5) rule out that Chinese famine disease that I don't want to know about. This all sounds swell, but seriously, do I want to know all of these things?? We asked her, "What is the best-case scenario?" and her answer -- there isn't one. Wow, thanks, I feel so much better! Anyway, 70% of breast cancers are environmental, without a known cause, so there's always a good chance of that. I suppose that comes with it's own drawbacks as well but it sounds a lot less scary to me than the other two options.

Today was the fun part where I got to find out about the actual boob job. We went for the first visit with the plastic surgeon. We sat in the (expletive) waiting room for 90 minutes, and it was a full two hours before he checked me out. By the time he came into the examination room, we had moved onto mindless chatter about my mom's bowling-ball ("marbled") bathtub and were laughing pretty maniacally when he walked in. (Yet another group of doctors to think we are nuts.) Anyway, I originally had it set in my head (with no prior research) that I wanted no implants. I heard they could use fat from the love handles or somewhere else to do the reconstruction. This sounded grand and lovely until we discussed details. He said the fat would come from my stomach, squeezed up the left side and showed the size of a new tit. Noo thank you! I surely have a little pudge belly, but not enough to make for adequate cleavage. He also said the scar would run from hip-to-hip and they might even cut into muscle. All the way around, this is not the route for me.

So, option two is this. After the oncology surgeon does her mastectomy business, he will jump in and place tissue expanders, which will stay in about 6 to 8 weeks. They are like small implants that he can gradually blow up through a metal port (with once-a-week saline injections) so that my skin stretches enough to put in implants. Once they are to the size I want, I will have another surgery (an outpatient procedure) to install the permanent implants. And after that heals, I get to go pick up my nipples in the drive-thru. Then, it's off to a tattoo artist for the coloring. (Should I go with a rouge or perhaps pink dewberry?)

Anyway, his portfolio is impressive, and I finally learned that I won't have a giant Zorro scar across my chest as I had previously imagined. I still fear waking up from surgery without a limb, but maybe that's just a Freudian delusion related to losing my precious breasts.

Oklahoma Wheat

So, we're finally home, fed, and washed up for the evening. I just wanted to throw up a quick update on today's doctor visit. We went down to fabulous Miami Beach to see my mom's friend's relative who is an oncologist, so we would have a second opinion. The nurse who checked me out was friendly and kind. He said he had seen a Turkish movie recently, and of course we were thinking, "Oh, great... he's seen Midnight Express too. What's new." But, (for the first time EVER) the guy had actually seen a really good German/Turkish flick called The Edge of Heaven, which we watched a few months ago. It's a really good flick! Anyway, doctor update. He came in, looked through the pathology reports, ultrasound slides, and mammograms, and we talked about my situation, how it all came about, he examined me (as if I wasn't sore enough from the biopsies)... and he came to the same conclusion as the other doctors. He also knows them well and said they are really excellent doctors. Anyway, as I was thinking before, the chemo news is great for now, but we must wait and see what the results are after the surgery. It is likely that I will need chemo after surgery, considering the circumstances and lack of family history of breast cancer. So, no cartwheels and flips, folks. We did ask about the fertility issue, and I could possibly opt to do another round of Lupron. Fun times.

Good news on the decorating front. Our room is coming along swiftly and we should be done by the end of the weekend (maaaybe). Poor Celal is sleeping in a girly room, but it's pretty cute and Frenchy. Next is my mom's master bathroom. I can't say I have the best eye for decorating, but my mom needs help, believe me. She kept asking me on Skype what paint color we wanted for our room here, and I gave a few ideas and reiterated "anything but yellow." They went with Oklahoma Wheat. She still refuses to believe that it's yellow. "It's not really yellow. It's wheat. Golden wheat. Golden wheat yellow."

Good news (for now)

I was in the midst of a dream -- having a conversation with the radiology receptionist to schedule my appointments, casually discussing Gus Van Sant movies (why?) -- when I awoke to my mom screaming, "Jennifer! Jennifer!" as she ran down the hallway to our bedroom. She burst into the room, "I have good news! I have good news!" (Side note: If you don't know my mom, you have to understand that she has the energy of a two-year-old child all hours of the day and it's the funniest thing ever). If you don't know me well, you'll need to know here that I'm not a cheery, energetic morning person. Anyway, cheerleader mom continues to say that she just got off the phone with the doctor and that I will not need chemotherapy before my surgery! She spoke with my oncology surgeon who spoke with the oncologist who read the pathology reports of my biopsy results.

We are all pretty happy about this, but I must confess that I lie on the line between pragmatic and cautiously optimistic, so I'm not yet doing cartwheels and flips. We will hopefully be visiting with an oncologist tomorrow for a second opinion and to ask some questions and confirm that this is a good thing. I'm not sure this rules out chemo in the long run, but in the scheme of the next month, it's pretty damn good news. We are assuming that this means the cancer is not so bad, but I really can't say that at this point until we talk to the doctors. Honestly, I have been the most worried about the long-term effects of the chemo (such as complete infertility, as if I didn't have enough fertility issues with the endometriosis) so for this reason alone I am very happy.

Other than this, not much else is going on in my medical realm. I will have that genetic blood test next Tuesday, and then meet with the reconstruction surgeon on Wednesday. We have breathing room.

We have been keeping ourselves pretty busy the past few days. My mom's friends are amazing and they have brought us delicious meals, in addition to some cooking we've done. Thanks to everyone for the fruits, baked ziti, salads, meatballs, spinach dip, wines, chicken and beans, rice... and of course the great company. We also have been shopaholics to keep our minds busy. We're working on a few projects in my mom's new house, the priority of which is decorating our bedroom. It's nice to have some things to keep us productive since neither Celal nor I are working here. I'll be sanding down a cedar chest shortly so we can refinish it. I also just finished making a batch of homemade Rice Gelato from the book The Perfect Scoop (by David Leibovitz, one of my favorite bloggers), which we will freeze later tonight.

Aside from keeping busy, I've been an emotional rollercoaster. I love reading everyone's messages, and have cried through many of them. I had a few mini-meltdowns. The nights are the worst, and it has been ridiculously difficult to fall asleep. I just started reading a new book (A Year in Provence, takes me back to our honeymoon) so it's helping but my mind still wanders into the darkness. The mornings are the best. I love waking up to sunshine and always have a renewed optimism when I see the blue skies and fluffy clouds. I'm also a sucker for fresh OJ. But the days are still long. It's an insane thought that I just got diagnosed in Istanbul one week and two days ago. These have been the longest days of my life.

Lucky me

I just wanted to post a quick update. I'm not supposed to be typing right now...

We just got back from my tests today - I had three vacuum biopsies. It wasn't too bad, but pretty sore right now and icing on and off for 20 minutes the rest of the night. We'll know the results in a few days, hopefully it will be good news and I won't have to do chemo before surgery. I am feeling SO much better mentally and very positive. At the hospital, they are all wondering why I smile and giggle so much, they must think I'm completely insane.

YESTERDAY was the longest day of my life. By 1pm, it felt like one week had gone by, and every second I was excruciatingly nervous/anxious/scared... there was no escape from my thoughts no matter how much we tried to do things to distract us. Finally, my mom's friend (who happens to be my old middle school computer teacher) came by for a while and she brought us a tray of baked ziti for tonight. She is a real sweetheart.

After a few hours, I finally had a mini-breakdown and let it all out. I recouped, put some frozen spoons over my eyes, and prepared for our dinner guests. We had some friends over (Tuna, his girlfriend, and her daughter) and we made delicious seared tuna steaks on the grill, which made for some quite funny comments (such as, "How do you like your Tuna?" and "This is the best Tuna I've ever eaten"). It was friggin' delicious. Cooking and guests are really a blessing to keep my mind busy since I'm not working.

I have been reading (and crying) through everyone's comments. I can't believe all of the support I have and will definitely respond soon when I am mentally prepared to do so.... but I just wanted to say that I take them all to heart, and they have touched me deeply and are giving me the strength to move forward with this. I certainly cannot do it alone and I am the luckiest girl in the world to be so loved :o)

More to follow... stay posted!

xoxo

Once upon a time...

Hey, folks! It's your favorite inconsistent blogger, back in action. Welcome and enjoy the flight...

So where do I pick up the pieces? I'll start at the end and work my way to the beginning. It's a lovely Saturday in sunny Florida, the weather is perfect. There are no doctor appointments until Monday. Life today is pretty normal, and one might even go so far as calling it a "vacation" of sorts: freshly squeezed OJ, eggs, and bacon in the morning; sipping passion tea on the patio with the light, wafting breeze in the afternoon; and heading to visit some old friends for dinner tonight.

I'm 29 years old and I have cancer? Still getting used to that one. So, for those of you who don't know the scoop, here it goes. I was in bed about two weeks ago, as one does, reading and trying to fall asleep. I guess I was playing with my boobs subconsciously (don't you?), and happened feel something small and a little hard in my right boob. Celal made an appointment for the doctor the following Saturday (21st) and I didn't think TOO much of it. I was more concerned with that damn CELTA course I was taking and having a nervous breakdown over lesson plans. Anyway, I went to a new doctor right down the street from our house because I was too lazy to see my regular doctor (his office is in Yesilkoy, and the weather is nasty in Istanbul, and did I mention, I'm lazy?).

So... he felt me up. He said it felt like a fibroid, probably (which made total sense since I also have endometriosis and fibroids in my uterus...). So, an ultrasound, mammogram, and hellish core biopsy later, I headed back to school on Tuesday, and I wasn't too concerned, like I said. We were expecting the results from the pathologist that afternoon, and as the time came nearer I became more and more worried about the results. Well, I left school at 6pm, as usual (after I was nearing tears from a harsh discussion regarding my lesson plans). I had a really bad feeling. I called Celal since we usually meet after school/work to head home together. I asked him about the results right away, and he said we would talk when I get there (about 10 min away). That threw me for a loop. I was thinking it was either the worst-case scenario, or my husband was really inconsiderate to make me wait to hear good news.

So, I exited the Tunel this past Tuesday, where Celal was waiting for me. We smiled and kissed each other hello as usual. We chatted for a minute about nothing important. He didn't want to tell me. So, I asked. And I asked again. He couldn't tell me. I started to scream at him, "Tell me what he fucking said! You are not telling me! Is it cancer? Did the doctor say it is MAYBE cancer or it IS cancer?" So after a few more roundabout answers to that question, Celal told me, and we just looked in each other's eyes and started to cry on the ferry.

My mom and Celal both decided that I would be coming to the States for treatment. So, here we are. Luckily, I am seeing the best doctors. We spent the entire day yesterday getting more tests and getting closer to a treatment plan. The cancer is basically in my entire right breast, and hopefully contained therein. I definitely will have a mastectomy. I only *need* it on the right side, but it doesn't make any sense to keep a uniboob. Not to mention, it is a huge risk. Anyway, I have to do more tests on Monday (three core biopsies to determine if the cancer is invasive/spreading or not). If it is, I need chemo prior to surgery. (The plan is to do surgery at the end of March.) I also have to get the genetic blood test, which may lend to WHY the hell I have breast cancer at 29. I have no family history of breast cancer. Weird.

So, I'm getting a boob job. I've always wanted smaller ta-ta's anyway. I'm coping I guess. I'm not really excited about it, but what can I do? I'm really going to miss my nipples. We are just hoping the cancer is not spreading...I don't know how I will cope with chemo. I will, but it's still pretty damn scary.

Seriously, there is so much to write and I don't know how to fit it all in... I thank everyone for their support and I look forward to writing more and hearing from everyone.

xoxo

P.S. - I promise I'll try to add a bit more humor to the next post...