April 8 2011

Like life, cancer is a rollercoaster! A few days ago, I was thrilled about having my drains removed , but today is a much tougher day.

Yesterday, I was in the bathroom straightening my hair for my big morning out (ha, this is sarcastic) because I was leaving the house for something other than a doctors appointment. Thursdays, we always pick up Alexa and Mom was gonna drive me and the kids to pick her up from preschool. So anyway, I was getting ready. Alayna came in and wanted her hair "LONG" too. Its so funny, she calls getting her hair straightened "getting her hair long" because with her really curly hair, her hair looks sooo much longer once it is straightened. So I was doing her hair when my cell rang.

I knew from the number that it was Niki, the nurse from Dr. Duvens office. She told me that the oncotyping test called a mammoprint came back and that she had the results. This test determines the probability of any woman under the age of 60 yrs old, having a recurrence of cancer in the next ten years. She told me that my results came back very high that I would have a recurrence. All I said was "Even though I just had a double mastectomy??" She said yes. It could recur somewhere else in my body.

From the time I hung up, til about an hour later, I was BAWLING. Even as I was finishing Alayna's hair, she had to ask me "Mama!!! Why you cryin ALL the time?" How she asked it made me smile a little bit. I just havent cried about this whole thing before this. You are probably asking why?? Obviously, this was always a possibility. But I truly didnt think that I was going to have to have chemo. After the testing came back that I didnt have the BRCA1/ BRCA2 gene, I thought that this cancer was a fluke incident and that having the mastectomy would relieve the problem. I felt very lucky and hopeful and thought the worst was over.

But now, I know that this is just the beginning of the journey.

Lets be real, having the mastectomy has been even harder than I imagined it would be. Yes, I knew it wasnt going to be easy. But I am still much more sore/ unable to do things that I thought I would be able to by now, two weeks later. I still have such a hard time just lifting myself off the couch, chair, bed by pushing off with my arms. I cant put the weight on my arms yet without it really hurting. My whole chest ACHES to the touch.

The worst part is that I cant hold Paxon. Everytime he is on my lap he ends up pushing me or bumping me and completely hurting me. Then I panic, and as I am trying to get him off me, he is pushing back on me with even more force. Its terrible. It absolutely kills me that I cant even hold my baby boy. (Ok, I gotta get a grip....my waterworks are on in full force) It hurts sooo horribly bad that I cant just cuddle with him when he wants to crawl up in my lap and give me a kiss. I have to push him back a bit. Try imagining that with your child. It kills me.

The girls at my "girls night out" before my surgery were joking around that I was a control freak. Its true to some extent. (stop rolling your eyes, girls. Its only KINDA true) I hate that I cant control what my next steps are. I hate that I cant control any of this. I am a planner. I plan out our family vacations a YEAR before we take them. I plan out the kids' outfits the night before they need to wear them. I own 4-6 different planners/ assignment books throughout a year because I like to have everything written down, organized and planned. Once the book starts to get messy, I buy a new one and start over. I cant stand to not have it all nice and neat. Where I am getting at with this, is that I cant PLAN this. I cant plan when my treatments will "kick in" and make me ill. I cant plan when I will lose my hair. I cant plan how my kids will take this, or how it will affect them. I am scared of the affects this will have on them, on my relationships with them, my marriage, my family finances, my job, even my faith. I feel so helpless/ hopeless but there is soooo much I cant control. It doesnt settle well with me.

Ok...I have got to get some sleep. Alayna just stopped talking to me, so I believe she just passed out for the night....because like her mother, her mouth just yak, yak, yaks til shes asleep. For everyone who has been so proud of me, or said that I am so tough, Im not. This cancer crap SUCKS and my attitude sucks too. Sorry.