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 Week Before Surgery

It's been a LONG week. We saw the breast surgeon on Tuesday(who introduced herself as "Jennifer" btw, immediately putting me at ease) and scheduled a double mastectomy for April 25. I had an MRI on Friday. Ok THAT is pretty much one of the most unpleasant experiences ever. I'm super proud of myself for holding still and simply making it through. Apparently it could have been worse, though. For a breast MRI, you lie on your stomach and literally scoop your breasts down into these two holes. Your head is lying on a pillow like the ones on a massage table. And the similarities to a massage table end there. But, going into the tube facedown apparently causes less claustrophobic panic than going in face up. So there's that.  

All the bells and whistles are still there, though. And by that I mean super loud bursts of all sorts of different sounds, from knocking to banging to clanging. 

 Ken has been AMAZING this week. He's been there for everything. Tuesday, he took me to Build-a-Bear and we built a pink bear named BooBoo with Ken's voice recorded saying "I love you baby". We bought button-top pajamas, soft socks and slippers for the hospital. He took me to lunch at Tucanos. He tries to assure me that I will still be me without the 42 DD's that I've had for the last 20 years. 

But I still worry that my grandbabies will never sleep as comfortably on Nana's chest as Staten did today. 

Diagnosis Day

They said the results of the biopsy would take 3-4 business days, putting at us at like April 10. So, when the phone call came on April 6, the day after the biospy, I knew. I was even prepared for it. Dr Bastian had told Ashli and Ken the truth at the biopsy. He told them he couldn't say for sure without the official biopsy result, but he thought it looked like a stage 1 cancerous lesion. 

So I was ready for the news. Yet, I wasn't ready for the news. I was tending Staten that day. Ken was at work. It was just me and the little man when the call came. And he had that little smile that Staten always has. He's always going to be a look-on-the-bright-side kind of guy :) 

Geri actually gave me the news herself. Dr Frischknecht wasn't in that day and she knew I'd want to know that day, a Friday, rather than wait all weekend. She was right. I was glad she called. She cried and told me she loves me, that's it's Stage 1 and the prognosis is really good. I cried for a while. And I've cried some since then, but mostly, it's OK. Mostly, it's easy to stay positive. I have a great team surrounding me, lots of support. 

Staten James Allred

On Tuesday, March 22. 2017, my daughter-in-law Kieonah gave birth to my 3rd grandson, Staten James Allred. Staten was born at 10:57 PM, weighing 7 lbs 15 ounces, 21 1/4 inches long. His name was chosen for Staten Island, because my son Tyler met his wife Kieonah when they were both serving as missionaries for the LDS church in the New York New York North mission. 

Kieonah had invited me to be in the room with her when she delivered the baby, and while I was honored that she asked, I really didn't think I wanted to be there. Her Mom would be there, Tyler would be there, and I just wasn't sure I should. But once her contractions started, I knew I couldn't leave. It was an amazing experience, watching this teeny little girl go through 15 hours of labor to bring my son's son into this world. 

Every time a contraction started, she reached for Tyler's hand. And hour after hour, his hand was there for her. 

My kids drove 6 hours to be there, and seeing them hold Ty's baby was a moment I will never forget. 

Rogue was fascinated that there is someone littler than him. I think they will be good friends as they grow up. 

Ken was amazing. He waited in this tiny waiting room all 15 hours, going out for food when Ty needed something. We are so blessed to have Ken in our lives. 

And now I'm excited to watch my youngest child raise his own family. 

Life is good :)