Limbo Land

I'm living in limbo land. I know I need radiation but no chemotherapy. YAY for the no chemo part. But I don't know exactly WHEN I'll start radiation. 

And I get feeling better each day, which is super nice. 

But once radiation starts, I will get feeling super yucky again. I will go every day Monday-Friday for 5 1/2 weeks. 28 rounds of radiation. If you google it, you only see the very worst pictures of radiation burns and permanent skin damage. But what choice do you have, really? I had a grade 1 tumor with a teeny tiny little bit of cancer in the sentinel node that was removed. So maybe that was all the cancer that I had. And maybe it wasn't. So radiation. I had a test called a Mammaprint which is supposed to tell you how mean your tumor was. If it was a mean tumor, that was growing rapidly and likely to have moved beyond the lymph nodes, I would have needed chemo. But my Mammaprint came back as "low risk" so I just do radiation. Sometime. When my temporary expanders are full enough for eventual reconstruction. The drains are out, but the doctor acted like it was too soon to take them out. I was getting less than 25 ccs of fluid out of each drain each day, and that is when they take them out. But she seemed hesitant to do it. She warned me that the temporary breasts may fill up with fluid and I would need to call the surgeon  immediately if that seemed to be happening so he can use an ultrasound and manually drain the breasts. So like every time I feel a tiny bit weird, I think my breasts are full of fluid because my drains came out too early, I'm going to get some massive infection and the incisions will open up like an earthquake. I definitely went back to work too soon. I went back two weeks after my double mastectomy, with the drains still in place. I had staff meeting, a really tough court case, and I was supposed to do a supervised visit with the mom of the really tough court case. Fortunately, Val came through and did the supervised visit for me, so I was able to go home after court. I've had a lot of doctor appointments, so I'm not back full-time, but that first day was rough. Today was great. I wasn't tired, I got a lot done. I've found that if I drink lots of water each day, walk as much as I can, and force myself to stop for breaks and lunch, I do pretty well. Pre-cancer, I worked 12 hour days and never stopped for lunch. I lived on caffeine. I never socialized with my colleagues. Now I sit with them in the breakroom and eat a healthy lunch. It's good for my psyche and my body. 

 The best part of having cancer is that you get to see how much people really love you. I've had so many visitors since all of this started. These pictures barely put a dent in it. I love my people so much <3 p="">

The Real Face of Cancer

 I make a huge effort to be positive about this whole cancer thing. One, I believe it will aid my recovery immensely if I go at it with a hopeful, determined outlook. Two, my family needs me to be positive. They love me. They are worried enough without me acting scared that I'm going to die. 

 But he knows that some days are harder than others. Some days I am scared that I am going to die. 

 And EVERY day includes emptying these bloody drains (pun intended) with the occasional clot or clump of tissue. 

 My daughter and my sister get glimpses of how I really feel sometimes too. 

And #tinastribe just makes it all better on the days when it isn't super easy. 

Tina’s Tribe

I had a double mastectomy on April 25 at American Fork Hospital by Dr Jennifer Tittensor. Dr Mark Jensen placed expanders at the same time to prepare for breast reconstruction surgery which will take place in a few months. A sentinel node biopsy showed no cancer cells in the lymph nodes, but we won't be out of the woods until final test results come in next week. Hopes and prayers that radiation and chemotherapy will not be part of my treatment needs. 

My family was AMAZING!!!! We were told that only two adults and absolutely no children could be in the waiting room during my surgery, so my husband Ken planned to be there, and my daughter Ashli would join him after she dropped her two little boys off with their other grandma. When I got to the hospital, however, I had a whole tribe waiting for me. All dressed in matching t-shirts, holding flowers that they each handed to me. My mom had seven children when she died at age 39 of breast cancer. My dad never remarried. All of my siblings but one were there at the hospital, and my sweet dad was at the head of the line. All of my children, their spouses, all of my grandchildren. Those who couldn't attend in person posted pictures on facebook of them wearing pink for me the day of my surgery. I am so blessed to have this amazing family.