I’m Seeing Another Man…

I’m seeing another man. In fact, I saw him twice last week. I also got to spend time with his partner and we discussed a possible threesome for later in the week…:)

Did that peak your curiosity? Perhaps I should clarify before the rumor mill gets to churning out the latest gossip and sends everyone in the family into a tizzy…

Due to ongoing pain around the tooth I had rooted out back in May, I found myself back in the hot seat at my new dentist’s office three times last week. Last Monday, I had the pleasure of meeting one more of the three dentists that practice at the Myotech Dental Center. This was not the same doctor that helped fix the 4 cavities and the root canal issue that had surfaced prior to starting my chemotherapy. Since Dr. Leppo was not in, Dr. Prudent and I made plans for me to return when both Dr. Leppo and Dr. Prudent could take a look at what was going on. I was again impressed with the unbelievable bedside manner of yet another partner in that business and it completely justified my decision to divorce the dentist I had been seeing for almost 4 years.

There have only been four dentists up until now in my life. My childhood dentist was imposed upon me by my parents. I hated him. There was something about him that really made my skin crawl. My girls call those kind of people–“creepers”. When I think about it–he was. I’m sure he was a nice enough fellow, but I didn’t like him and he inflicted a great deal of pain on me during my childhood and for that–he was out. Actually, he dumped me and opted for retirement. When his son took over the practice, I stayed for a while. The commute back and forth from where I lived in the cities as a young woman to the office in my hometown was just too difficult to make over a lunch hour though and so, I left him–without so much as a goodbye.

For five years, I worked for an eye surgeon in the Quad Cities. His office was right beside a dentist’s office. One day, I decided to start up a new relationship. I stayed with that dentist and followed him when he moved to a bigger office. As I moved further away, the commute began to take a toll once again, but there was a bigger problem. I hated his secretary–just couldn’t stand her–very bitchy and always looking down her nose at me–especially when I’d come in a few minutes late (as though she had never gotten stuck in traffic or dealt with kids in meltdowns). The doctor himself was great–kind, soft spoken, gentle, and would always set my appointments for the last one in the day because he knew that I was a freaker (thanks to dentist #1). He knew that more than anything, going to the dentist for me was a major psychological hurdle. He knew where the exposed roots were on the two molars that had housed headgear bands during the phase in my life when I wore braces and he always stayed clear from them with his sharp tool. I’ll never forget (I’m sure he won’t either) the day I went in to have a silver filling that had gone bad dug out and resealed. I was a mess–couldn’t stop crying, freaking out about the drill–I mean BAD. I was literally crawling up the back of the chair to get away. What should have taken about 20 minutes took and hour and a half because he would stop and start and stop and start to give me some time to brace myself. He never laughed at me. He understood and he was patient with my freak out. I loved him for that. I sent the office flowers the day after.

Unfortunately, I just couldn’t stand to go there and be harrassed by the secretary. I showed up about 10 minutes late one night and she went through the roof and said I needed to pay a broken appointment fee. I had already had a bad day and I told her to shove it. It would be different if I never showed up, but I even called in route to tell her I was on my way. It infuriated me so much, I divorced her–on the spot. That meant, though, that I was divorcing him too and that made me really sad because I had been with him for about 15 years and so had my kids. I decided to find something closer to where we had just moved. I took a coupon out of the Welcome Wagon basket that promised free exams for new patients. Without dental insurance–that was like winning the lottery for me and my family because those new patient exams are soooo outrageously priced. My family has been with this dentist for about four years, but we haven’t liked it. Even so, I just can’t justify spending over a thousand dollars to get everyone in for new patient exams, x-rays and cleanings somewhere else. So, we’ve stayed.

The dentist at the time was someone I personally didn’t care for. He was patronizing and I just couldn’t stand that about him. He actually laughed when I told him I didn’t know if I could take having any major dental work done and that I have been known to take more than 2 or 3 novacaine shots in the past because I could feel the work being done despite the anesthetic. He would look at me incredulously and then laugh. It made my blood boil. I felt as though he really couldn’t care less and to him you were just a meal ticket. The women in the office infuriated me as well and would pad the bill each time I went in for myself or my kids. I’m always VERY SPECIFIC when it comes to dental bills because it is such a HUGE outlay of cash each 6 months that I have to budget very carefully. The last time I went in for me I told them I needed x-rays and an exam–no cleaning, no sealant, no flouride, no extras whatsoever because I was just checking on a specific tooth (the root canal one). I’ve learned with these women to repeat myself and make sure they have made notations on my account so when I actually do come in, there is no mistaking what I want or don’t want done. With all the computerization that is in that office and with the prior knowledge all these women have of me and that I can get very bitchy when someone is trying to screw me out of money–you would think that there were red flags waving signaling my arrival that day. Nope.

When I went back to the examining room the hygenist took the x-ray and then proceeded to clean my teeth. I stopped her, asked her what she was doing, and she looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about. I got up, walked out to the office and really got into the ladies business that is in charge of scheduling. I remember her telling me, “Well, if she started the cleaning, then we have to charge you for the whole cleaning and so you may as well get it done”. OH MY GOD–ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I went nuts. I even reminded her when I signed in that day. Do you think she could have transferred that information to the hygenist? I cancelled all other appointments for the rest of the year for the kids and myself–went ahead and said ENOUGH IS ENOUGH (actually, that was the nice version of what I said) and I walked out. Before I left, I did demand all the x-rays, afterall, I paid for them over the years–why shouldn’t they give them to me?

Months go by and I hadn’t found a new dental home. I knew that wherever I landed, I wanted it to be the last one. I wanted to feel like the people in the office and the doctors themselves didn’t just see me as a walking $$ sign. I knew I needed to start looking, but I knew I was going to have to have work done to that upper tooth that gave me such problems. It wasn’t until that trip out to see my grandmother in Virginia one year ago that I passed by a billboard sign in Kentucky that promoted a local dentist and said something about sedation dentistry. I thought about it the whole way out and when I got home I started looking over the yellow pages. There aren’t too many places that provide that service here where I live. I would have to either travel or call an office that I always thought was geared more for patients needing dentures and dental implants. I took a shot on the denture office and it turned out they do all sorts of tooth restoration work. They also carried the ZOOM teeth whitening machine and I had been dying to have that done for a few years. I remember when I first called for information and prices (before I was even diagnosed) finding out that it was in my best interest to be a patient–it would be cheaper. Sigh. That meant I was going to have to start shelling out some big bucks to have all that new patient work done before I could even start any work.

It wasn’t long after Christmas last year that I had that fateful mammogram where I was diagnosed with breast cancer. When that happened, everything else took a back seat and months went by before I was again faced with the need to see a dentist. Back in April, I was told by my first oncologist that any dental work that I needed to have done would need to be done prior to starting treatment because the risk of any infection developing while my immune system was being destroyed would not be a good thing. I knew I had one cavity and it was a bad one, so I went ahead and called this denture office to see about coming in. I explained my situation and they got me in–no problem–no waiting. The doctor that came in to talk to me was hands down the nicest dentist I’ve ever met. He and I talked at length about my nerves and then discussed the x-rays and the fact that I had not one but FOUR cavities! One was so bad it needed a root canal (that was the one in question for 6 months). He told me the price of everything and I think I stopped breathing.

Where in the world was I going to come up with about $2800 in a week (I had to have it done before my first chemo on May 7, 2009)? I don’t carry credit cards–I figure if I don’t have the money for something, I shouldn’t be buying it, but now was one of those times I wished I had an emergency card. To tell you the truth–I’d just be paying interest and minimum payments for God knows how long and that’s not how I operate. I hate being “payment-ed” to death. I was really going to have to fanagle this one. That’s when he told me he could spread the payments out and give me 90 days same as cash. Still a freaking lot of money, but I had to have it done AND I know of no other dentist office that will let you do that. It included the extra $500 to put me to sleep–totally worth it in my mind and the date was set. I had to have someone drive me out to the surgical facility and hang around nearby for a few hours because I would be loopy to drive myself home. I wasn’t completely knocked out, and I can only remember bits and pieces of that afternoon.

Taken 5-4-09 right before being put under for my root canal.

I remember the nurse putting the IV in my arm and turning on the medicine that would make me fall asleep.

I remember Dr. Leppo coming in and telling me everything would be ok.

I remember him giving me a warm blanket and turning on the TV.

I remember several times opening up my eyes and seeing him hovering over me with a lot of bright lights and he was wearing micro-surgeon’s binoculars. He would ask me reassuringly each time if I was ok.

I remember my jaw aching.

I remember when it was over, he got up and he walked around holding onto his back because he had been in such an awkward position for over three and a half hours.

I remember telling him that I really appreciated his kind nature.

I remember him smiling at me very warmly and saying, “That’s what I’m here for”. He told me I would need a crown on that tooth, but because of the placement of the cavity on that particular tooth, I would be lucky not to lose the tooth sometime in the near future. He said it was a 50/50 shot and he made the decision to see if the root canal would do the trick. He said it was just too bad and that the cancer was really beginning to do some damage to my teeth. He said the tooth itself was packed full of antibiotics before being sealed. He also told me to come back with any problems and to hang tough through the chemo.

I looked at him dead on and said, “I want you to know, that if I don’t make it out of this this year, that you were one of the nicest doctors I had ever met and I was very glad to have him as part of my medical team.” He thanked me and told me it was quite alright.

It was just a couple days later when I had that encounter with the woman in the wig shop (Just Own It) and that is when I made the decision to get my tattoo. I knew that would also need to be done prior to chemo and my white cells getting killed off and I knew that all the antibiotics from the root canal would help kill off any kind of infection a tattoo might inflict. Right before going in for my first round of chemo, I went back to Dr. Leppo. I hadn’t been able to eat anything in a few days. My mouth was so sore from being clamped open for so long. I knew the other teeth he had fixed would take some getting used to chewing on again, but the side of my mouth that really had the work done was in a lot of pain. I couldn’t take the Vicadin because I transport kids during the day and the Ibuprofen just wasn’t doing the trick. He filed some stuff down and I went home. It wouldn’t matter whether I had eaten or not, the day came for my first chemo and after that I wasn’t really that hungry for a while. After about three weeks, things calmed down and I have been good since then–until a couple weeks ago.

I started experiencing pain on both sides of my upper jaw again. It got to the point where I just knew I had to get it looked at. I was worked in right away and from the initial x-rays, Dr. Leppo’s partner couldn’t tell if I had cracked the root canal tooth (with all the stress over Jasmine this summer, I had forgotten to go back for the crown), or if the tooth had two roots and one wasn’t all the way tied off or whatever they do to it. I kept saying there was something else. On the tooth right beside it. It was causing me A LOT of pain. He told me to come back on Wednesday and together, Dr. Prudent and Dr. Leppo would take a look and try to determine what was going on. Sitting in the dentist’s chair on Wednesday, I started getting nervous. What if the tooth has to come out. Then I’m going to need a fake tooth. Geez, I already have a fake boob, my face tells a nasty story with all the worry lines of what our family went through this past year, and now I am losing my teeth. I’m just so sick of falling apart.

As I waited for the doctor to come in, I mulled over a lot of stuff. “It’s detail work now, smoothing out the kinks–ya know?” I said to myself as convincingly as possible. I began to think about it more along those lines and after a few moments, I made yet another decision regarding my aftercare. As I sat there and stared at the posters for teeth whitening, I decided I would be more specific with my New Year’s resolutions and I was going to be doubly specific with what I meant by “This year I’m going to work on Me” (my resolution last year–and way to generic and vague). As far as my teeth were concerned, I was going to fix my teeth and get them back into a stable state and then I was going to ZOOM them. A little cosmetic pick me up for the new year. If my smile were to dazzle everyone, perhaps they wouldn’t see the wrinkles that were forming, the gray hair that was just beginning to grow in, the extra 30 pounds I was sporting, or the cyclops boob that was expanding on my chest.

I know its all superficial–it’s not what truly counts–but dammit, I need a makeover in the worst way. I decided that…

I would go and get my hair re-colored–I’ve tried my new natural color for six months now and it’s just not happening. I’ve tried rocking the lesbian chic look and I’m not sure I’m pulling it off. LOL.

I’m going to take myself over to the little nail salon by my house and get a much needed mani/pedi.

I am going to commit to my nutrition program and stop talking about the extra 30 pounds–instead–I’m going to do something about them. I’m going to work my ass off–literally. I want to sign up to learn how to dance salsa. That should burn a few calories.

I’m going to get ready for my next surgery where the expander will be taken out of my chest and an implant will be inserted and I will have the other side lifted. I will contemplate a matching implant for the left side and a nipple reconstruction for the right side–something I’ve not been sold on yet.

I am going to go get a spray tan–for the hell of it. I always feel better with a little color in my skin and since I’m terrified of burning my chest in a tanning bed and not feeling it because all the nerves have been severed–I am going to go get airbrushed–just because. Period. Maybe they can spray on a six pack for me–haha–afterall, I’ve often heard that you should post a picture of your goal on the fridge to remind you of what your working for. I’ll just post my pic on my gut.

Lastly, I’m getting a massage. I need one. I’ve been terrified of getting one after what I was told back in February (that massage helps the drain the lymphatic system and that getting a massage when you have invasive cancer could possible send any free radicals bee-lining for a new host location to set up shop). I need one though–not want one–NEED ONE! Too much stress buildup over this year.

I need to stop pouring so much of me into everyone else all the time and carve out time to pour back into me. I just have to be a little selfish. Period. I’ve neglected me for too long. I had been expanding my mind, but forgot about all the other stuff and as you get older it’s important to look at the whole picture–or pieces of the picture start to get torn and that’s what was happening to me.

All of a sudden, Dr. Leppo walked in beaming. He was genuinely happy to see me. He said to me, “You made it!–That deserves a hug!” He came over and hugged me and then sat down to talk to me. I said, “I’m alive”! and we spent a few minutes catching up on how the year has gone. It was like talking to an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. Our attention turned to my teeth and we came to the conclusion that I really needed a whole new set of x-rays to see the damage that the chemo has done to my teeth.

“What kind of damage does chemo do to your teeth?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not really the chemo as much as it is the fact that chemo dries your mouth out and as a result of an extremely dry mouth, you don’t have the saliva needed to keep your gum tissue healthy which can also contribute to dental carries. Without saliva, there’s nothing to wash the sugars away” he said. Thankfully, I didn’t really experience any major side effects except having my hair fall out and going into respiratory arrest–nothing major–yeah, right–so, a few cavities is nothing in comparison, right? It still didn’t explain the pain, though.

I told him I had tried to schedule a new patient cleaning, exam, and x-rays, but was told the first appointment wouldn’t be until the end of March. He and his assistant looked through everything and because we had been hit with such a snow storm the previous week, there were many cancellations from people not wanting to drive into town. I was scheduled for the next day and as I left, I was told that there was no charge for my office visit for the second time that week. I couldn’t help but think that I had found my new dental home.

The next day brought a lot of anxiety for me. I was going to have to go through all the poking with that sharp little instrument I hate so much. All the scraping on my silver fillings that sends shivers through my spine and sounds like nails on a chalkboard. I was going to have to pray my new hygenist would be mindful of the exposed roots on the upper back molars and I would have to really hold on to the hope that I hadn’t cracked my tooth and the underlying problem was, in fact, due to something else. I couldn’t have been more put at ease. The two girls that worked on me were soooo nice! They answered all my questions about water picks, sonic toothbrushes, and teeth whitening. One talked to me about my cancer and asked quite frankly what I was thinking when I realized that I was really going to have to have my boob cut off (she’s young). It didn’t shock me, and I’d rather someone just come out and ask me those kinds of questions then just whisper behind my back. She asked if I was contemplating reconstruction and I had to laugh inwardly–did she not see this huge cyclops boob on my chest? Did she just think that was the silhouette of my real boob and since it overshadowed the actual real one that the left side must be the side I had cut off because it really looks pathetic over there now. Then she told me she just had an augmentation and that’s when I asked her a bunch of questions–especially–silicone or saline? That’s the question that weighs heavily on my mind these days.

Dr. Leppo came in again and looked through all the x-rays. Turns out I have two old silver fillings that are lifting up and causing me great pain since stuff is getting in there. They’ll need to be dug out and replaced. I hate the thought of it, but am secretly glad to get rid of all the silver in my mouth. It turns the color of my teeth gray and I hate it. So, I’ll get them replaced with enamel colored fillings and that should help the discoloration on that side. We’ll start working on replacing all of them since they seem to be really wearing out–but we’ll do it slowly and as I can afford to do so and about that root canal tooth–well, it’s still too hard to determine just what is going on with it, but I do have a cavity butted right up beside it and it could just be pain radiating throughout that entire area.

We talked about the possibility that once the cavity is filled, I find out that I’m still having pain and that it really is the root canal tooth. We talked about extracting it and having an implant put in. I freaked. I don’t know a lot about that–my parents always had partials–these things that they put into their mouths in the morning and took out at night to brush and soak. On their website their is a tiny flash video of how they use a screw to anchor in the implant–it acts like a metal root. “God, I totally do not want to do this”, I prayed and then quickly proceeded to put it into context–“Chris, you had your boob cut off this year. If you can do that, then you can handle a tooth implant screwed into your jaw”. Dr. Leppo reminded me it may not come to that. I was worried about how much that was going to cost. We never did get specifics, but he did say he would apply all the money I had paid for the root canal toward the implant. He told me he would stand behind his work and if it didn’t work, then he would reimburse me. Have I mentioned lately, that I love him? He knows just what to say to help get me through all this and for me it all boils down to pain and money. How much pain do I have to endure and how much is that pain going to cost me.

We talked about doing all the work at once and again I started to panic. We came to the agreement that I would get the middle sedation treatment–a pill that would make me super relaxed–and if I needed laughing gas–he’d give me that as needed. I’ve spent almost my entire adult life not relying on drugs or meds for things and this year, I have decided–they really come in handy! I wasn’t going to do it all at once, but it sure beats having to get super freaked more than one time. I also can’t stand to take off 2 or 3 afternoons to get it all done. So, we scheduled it for over a naptime where I could feed the kids and have a sub come in to help–mostly just to make sure they nap soundly. The effects of the meds should wear off farely quickly after the procedure and thankfully, my daughters will be home to help me out should I need it with the rest of the afternoon. The 29th of December is the day and I am not looking forward to it. I paid for half the visit (which was supposed to be $350 and they only charged me $219–another score in my book) and I made arrangements to put the balance with the total from the 29th (about $700) on a 3-pay again. Hard to come up with all that during Christmas, but I just have to keep plowing ahead. I can’t think about it or I’ll get stressed. It just bites because I just registered for school to retake a couple classes. These are on my dime. I just got that bill and now I realize why I signed onto that scholarship program (note to self–never let another class slide). Sigh. It’s always something. Anyway, here’s my super nice dentist and if any of you are wanting to make a switch to their office in Moline, make sure you tell them I sent you. They have an incentive program for referrals and one of them is a massage–I mentioned earlier how much I needed one, right?

Dr. Leppo

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Sick and Tired

I have been under the weather for almost two weeks now. This past weekend I spent almost all of it in bed sleeping off this crud. I don’t know what it is and it tends to worry me. As much as I hate to see other family members ill, I’m really glad they all have what I have–it means, in a way, that this is probably not cancer related. It is just kicking me in the butt much harder than everyone else. Then Justin came home with a letter from his school saying that there was a confirmed case of H1N1 Flu present in his school. It really wigged me out. Lots of disinfecting, sanitizing, and handwashing going on here.

I had my yearly physical last night. I sat face to face with the woman who didn’t listen to my moans and groans for a year and just thought I was in need of Xanax or Prozac or both. I know she felt bad, but instead of rubbing it in, I just filled her in on how the year has gone. I wish I wouldn’t have been overtired and wiped out from my huge cold. It makes me more emotional and when she was asking me big questions, I just couldn’t help it, I started crying. God, I wish I wouldn’t have done that. Then, she thought she was right in her initial assessment of what kinds of medications I should be taking. That made me even more upset because why can’t someone just cry anymore without someone thinking they need to be in a doped up state just to relate to what’s going on in their lives. She has put me off to the nurse practitioner all year–since my diagnosis. I’ve been mad at this doctor for a year. Last night I was just too tired and feeling like crud to tell her how I felt about that. The one thing I was really hoping she would help me out on was my request to have an ultrasound done. She wouldn’t. I cried. Again.

Do I think I need an ultrasound? I don’t know. Do I want an ultrasound. Yes. I worry constantly about this metastasizing to my ovaries or my uterus. Pap smears only detect cervical cancer and I will admit–that as unpleasant as those exams are, there are worse things and usually they never bothered me much. Last night–my first one since all this has happened to me–was more anxiety-ridden than any other I had ever had. I had to sit on my hands so she wouldn’t see them shaking. What if? What if something comes back on that? It’s been 7 months since my initial diagnosis–what could happen in that time frame? I know the tumor that was found was said to be a grade three–most severe–even for as tiny as it was and that it was multiplying very rapidly. Could other radicals have found a host by now and be multiplying elsewhere?

Could it be that this is the reason why I am soooooo exhausted anymore? I just can’t believe that a few months ago I had been working and studying 20 hours a day and getting 4 hours of sleep–if I was lucky–every night for three years. Now I can barely see straight come 7pm.

Is my body once again growing and feeding some dragon inside me? Without anyone willing to let me have an ultrasound or pet scan–how will I ever know? I would just like ONE of each–a baseline–to know where I started and that way if I was feeling symptoms of something they would have a marker of where it has come from. Especially now–when Jeff may be losing his job and that will result in a loss of insurance benefits–which makes me pre-existing almost everywhere else. While I have the insurance–just let me do it! Why can’t the doctors code it so it doesn’t look like it was routine? Why does it have to be assumed to be–especially when the initial cancer diagnosis is the underlying reason for wanting one in the first place. I just don’t get it. It makes me so angry. It makes me cry, because I just don’t feel like I’m being heard or that I am just another cancer patient. Trying to “live my life” as my first oncologist told me to do is nearly impossible at times. Its not the same. I don’t think it ever will be no matter how hard I try to carry on with a smile on my face. It just masks the deep pain I feel over the unknown.

Then again–would I really want to know? What if the scans came back and I was glowing like a fire cracker? Would I really want to see that? Would that make me even more overemotional? Probably. But–why wait until you have symptoms–then it’s too late. Wouldn’t you want to know if you have a huge brain tumor or spots on your lungs, or tentacles wrapped around your ovaries? The quicker you can have surgery and cut it out–the better your chances–right? I know it all sounds irratic, but these are the thoughts that keep me awake at night. It’s hard at times to forget, and I make it harder on myself when I don’t follow my nutrition regimine that my nutritionist has worked with me on all summer. Or when I forget to take my Tamoxifin. Major guilt trip. I feel like I have some sort of control with those things or with the exercising, but I am still partly in denial and not being consistent. I have not fully jumped on the bandwagon–I did early on, but now I am falling off and being drug by the cart. I know I need to recommit. I know.

Could it be the Tamoxifin that’s wiping me out? I know it has played a part in my early menopause and with that–could that be making me so tired? Speaking of the Tamoxifin, I tried to see if I could have the doctor’s office prescribe all 5 yrs. worth of meds. in advance. I am terrified that we won’t have insurance and I will not be able to even afford the cost of my prescriptions each month. I have no idea what the cost is, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, right? So, I called there and I didn’t even think about the shelf life factor until the nurse pointed it out. She also really sounded odd and then she told me that they could only refill the Rx monthly so that individuals would be less inclined to sell the drugs elsewhere. Oh my gosh, great, now my oncologist’s office thinks I’m a pill pusher on the black market somewhere and I will be watched for that. It made me laugh in a way and then I realized that there are probably thousands of women in just the same boat I’m in–if not worse. Think about all the women in third world countries who don’t get the Tamoxifin. Then, I think about how I live in America and I will be considered pre-existing here pretty soon–unless an insurance miracle happens and Jeff gets a new job without a pre-existing condition clause.

Is it that it takes a very long time for your body to recover from chemo–(even though I only had one full treatment before becoming severely allergic and going into respiratory arrest)? how long does it take before your energy levels return? Do they?

Is my body fighting against something or just trying to still heal? I know 6 months later, my body is still not draining the lymphatic fluid correctly. Only two lymph nodes were taken out in surgery and my body should have, by now, compensated and learned how to move the fluid through my body. But it still pools under the scar tissue in my chest and it is painful. Weirdly–the whole top of my chest is numb–all the nerves severed, but deeper–around the muscle–it’s still terribly painful. How long will that last? Will it last forever? Is it my body trying to tell me to lay down and get vertical so the fluid can move better? Is my body just working overtime? I do worry about that lymphedema every day and knowing how its pooling in my chest doesn’t help my worries. The surgeon doesn’t seem too worried although in my 2nd followup with him two weeks ago, he was concerned about the continued pain factor I’m having. He didn’t suggest anything, though–so I guess I just live with it.

Will I ever feel the same?

Will my psoriasis ever go away? It seems to be worse these days and that was one of the first indications that I found that alerted me to something being wrong. I know stress exacerbates psoriasis and I am truly amazed I am not covered head to toe in the stuff. Be thankful its just on my elbows, right?

Is the constant stress of the cancer, my self-image, my oldest daughter, how everything is affecting my younger children, my husband’s impending job loss, the uncertainty that will bring to us financially, the loss of benefits, the mounting medical bills for me and for Jasmine, the stress on our marriage and all of our relationships just taking its toll and no amount of counseling can really fix ALL the triggers at this point?

Once this metastasizes–it is really hard to detect if it goes to the ovaries or to the uterus. Why can’t we just schedule a hysterectomy at this point. I’m really inwardly wigging out about this and even though my new oncologist doesn’t want to start “butchering” for no good reason especially when the genetic tests have all come back fairly positive–I can’t help but think–Isn’t cancer a good enough reason? I suppose if I wanted it done badly enough and threw a big enough temper tantrum–I’d get my way–but am I just being over reactional about it? If I’m no longer using the stuff–take it out. That’s three less places for this to land and I will know that I am not going to die from those associated cancers.

Sigh. Sometimes my brain gets so ramped up with these thoughts that they just spew out onto the page. I have to keep coming back to my bible to try to help quiet myself. My goal of self-quieting has been a hard one to tackle this year. I think it also gets revved up as my doctor visits start coming. I will go see the plastic surgeon tomorrow to talk about reconstruction–something I totally didn’t think I was ready for, but with the possibility of losing insurance and the fact that they will now pay for a boob job–I’m going to talk about the options. It may not even be an option, but I have to go and check it out or I will be mad at myself if I let the opportunity slip away. Next week, I see my oncologist for a 3 month check up. I hope we will look at bloodwork and see if anything shows up there. I don’t know what I should be asking him at this point because I just feel like everyone wants me to “live my life”. If any of you have any questions I should be mulling over for him, please let me know. I would welcome them whole heartedly.

I received my long awaited call from NAFCC (National Assoc. for Family Child Care) that my long overdue national accreditation observation is about to happen. I have been working on it for two years. I applied for the observation the end of December 2008. Normally, you should get a call between 4-6 weeks to schedule the observation. Here we are 9 months later and I will finally undergo this on October 6, 2009. They have been swamped since revising their re-accreditation standards and since I am a newbie, I guess, I was not a priority. I often think of what that would have been like should I have gotten that call within the normal time period. I was just getting diagnosed with breast cancer. I would not have been ready for that at all. Looking back, I really am surprised I made it through the summer and really glad that this observation is coming while the house is quieter. I guess I should be grateful that it is happening after my mastectomy, after all the big rowdy boys went off to school, after a regular naptime had been re-established for the little ones, and after my head came back from Bizarro World.

Since this call came through, I haven’t been able to think about too much else in the past week–including the cancer stuff and I have truly welcomed the break. It makes me realize that when I am working on something I’m passionate about, I get a lot accomplished————(Why can’t I get truly passionate about my cancer?)———- I’ve been going through all my checklists making sure all my T’s have been crossed and my i’s have been dotted. I have a book that takes me a few hours to get through each time because I am really focusing on doing my best. I have been through it several times and plan on several more read throughs. I spent all last week working on my parent teacher conferences and getting those in order. I was glad to get them all done so I could move on to more paperwork that has been lagging. I screwed up my classes this year, but I am not going to screw up this. I have worked too hard. I want to be able to look back on 2009 and know that despite the huge setback, I was able to accomplish this major accomplishment. Usually centers or schools or colleges are accredited. It isn’t that often that in-home providers become accredited. So, I am working day in and day out right now and everyone in my family has their very own honey-do lists. I’ll get there slowly, but surely and quite honestly, I’m ready–its just the details I’m going back for. Tons of details, but it will all come together.

I’ve also been allowing several college students studying at St. Ambrose Univ. to come tour my environment. This is good practice for me as they are able to give me fresh eyes. They are students studying to be teachers–how I wish I could go back to school–but I am not ready yet. Maybe next year. Maybe this is why I was supposed to ultimately take the break from my college courses this year. To ready myself for accreditation. To make sure my head was still in the game. I can honestly say that I was in a perfect position to give up on everything I had worked for professionally. Just chuck it and spend my days playing with my family. It was a summer where I was re-evaluating everything in my life and trying to figure out if things were still working or if they needed changing in some way or another. When I look at my chosen profession, I can’t imagine doing anything else. I love working with kids. I love where I work. I love the tools I get to work with! Some people provide child care as a means to an end, a temporary job while their own kids are young, but me–it really drives me. I absolutely love what I do and when I had really looked at all the reasons why I do what I do, I realized my head was ready to take on the observer that would come spend the day with me. If I could just shake this illness now…

We celebrated my son’s 6th birthday this past week. Time flies. I asked him what the best present he got was and he looked at me and told me it was me and that he was super happy I wasn’t dead. “Gee, thanks, babe–I love you too” is what I responded with. ­čÖé I’m grateful I got to see him turn 6 and I am glad I’m not dead yet. Lord knows how I’ve worried over that all summer. So, I’m grateful I’m alive. I’ve survived my diagnosis for 7 months now. Almost a year. That’s an accomplishment in and of itself.

I have begun a Wellness class at the YMCA. It is 12 weeks of free personal training–2X/wk. for 1 1/2 hrs. each eve. The best part–its free! I get to work with a personal trainer for free for 12 weeks! I missed the first class because I was sick two weeks ago. I went to both classes last week and thought I was going to die each night. I began working on my WII fit on the off nights, but this cold/flu is really pulling me down. I am so happy for the outlet and MAKING ME a priority. I have met a handful of other breast cancer survivors that are in various stages of their disease or treatment and I just know that will be instrumental in my mental comeback. I think being able to dedicate time to working out will also help me release those endorphins I haven’t seen in a very long time which will help relax me, help me sleep better, make me feel like WANTING to recommit to my nutrition plan again, making me WANT to be more consistent with my med taking, and maybe inthe process, I will lose the 30 pounds I’ve tacked on. UUUGGGHHH! I am bigger than I was when I was pregnant with Jordan (she was the biggest baby)! Could it be the Tamoxifin that is helping me pack on the weight? I know that stress will pack on the weight also and I am surprised I’m not morbidly obese. The added weight make me more sluggish so, I have to lose it.

My other major concern is that I’ve been told that estrogen is stored in fat and since I’m sporting my own personal flotation device around my mid section these days–I need to find something to help me deflate it. I have to lose the weight–I worry every day that the hormone that is feeding my cancer is setting up shop and getting comfy in my fat. Ok–who am I kidding–I also want to lose the weight before my next class reunion next summer–I was so worried what everyone was going to think about my hair–now I just want to walk in and have everyone think, “wow, she looks great for having cancer”. I know. I know. Completely immature and shallow, but who wants to come back after 25 years looking like crap? Yes, I know all the stuff about the inner beauty, outer beauty, lasting beauty stuff, but when it comes right down to it, I really just hope that all my beauties are playing on a level field by then (and I really hope I drop 30 pounds!) :). I’ve run into a few friends from high school, they all happen to be nurses. They have all said I look good–my color is good and since they work with sick people all the time, they can tell when a person is sick. I guess I’ve got that going for me. Problem with that is–I’d rather have hair and a boob–omg–I just did it–I said something very generically–I take that back–let me be specific…

I’d rather have a headful of healthy, blonde, soft, stylishly coiffed hair that I could seductively whip around should I be in the mood for some lovin’, be able to pull it back when I’m feeling playful, and be able to run my fingers through it to tousle it and have that wind blown look that most women dream of. And–I’d rather have two boobs–the same size–preferably a little lifted and energized looking with a natural looking nipple tattooed on the new one. I used to wonder about having bigger boobs and although I wouldn’t mind them a tad larger, I’d now just be happy to look like I did. So a perky 34B would be great. Afterall, it’s not the size–it’s how you package them! I think that’s it–have I forgotten anything? Please feel free to let me know if that wish needs a little more something something. I will be checking out the silicone stockroom tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Started Tracking on 12-1-09

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