October

Let me start by saying that there's nothing quite like being diagnosed with breast cancer during October, which, unless you've been abducted by aliens over the last few weeks, you know is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I must say that we definitely do things up in terms of breast cancer awareness in this country. Honestly, literally everywhere I turn, there's a cereal box, or a TV show or a commercial, or someone on the radio, or something in a restaurant about breast cancer awareness. It's remarkable.

In my former life, I did't pay a lot of attention to all of this hype. However, given the fact that I had my second set of mammogram xrays on Oct. 1, a biopsy on Oct. 7 and that I received a diagnosis of breast cancer on Oct. 8, it is fair to say that my awareness level this October has been high.

Twelve hours after hearing my radiologist tell me that the biopsy came back showing ductal carcinoma in situ, Wesley and I participated in the Komen Race for the Cure here in Nashville. That was an experience I'll honestly never forget. Being surrounded by so much pink, and so many folks so enthusiastically supporting the cause, and by so many butt-kicking Survivors, was inspiring, to say the least. And, just to brag on Wesley's school, Montgomery Bell Academy, we had the #1 fundraising team for the event. The whole football team showed up at the race, and there were countless other students and their families there. I hadn't told anyone about my diagnosis at that point (other than Eli and my parents), so it was "my little secret" as I ran the 5K and nearly made my goal time of 30 minutes (I was slowed down a bit by a little pain from the biopsy two days earlier; that's my excuse, anyway).

Let me back up a minute and say that one of the very first things I did after hearing from my friend the radiologist that I likely had DCIS was to make a list of all of the women I know who have had and beat breast cancer. My original list was about 14 women long, and it continues to grow everyday. I call this my "Hero" list, and it encourages me so much when my mind begins to wander to the "what ifs." What if my cancer is worse than the original pathology reports show? What if I have to have chemo? What is the cancer is in my lymph nodes? While I know that these scenarios are unlikely, I, like any person dealing with health-related unknowns, worry about them from time to time. And every time I do, I can see the name of someone on my list who actually dealt with that situation and is still here to talk about it. And that, my friends, is one of the things that gives me so much hope and courage.

I'll also say that since making my first "announcement" about my situation on Oct. 11, I've learned of four friends/acquaintances who had breast cancer treatment while we were out of the country. I've spent lots of time talking with them on the phone, and talking to other friends I know who have battled this disease, as well. There is nothing quite like being in the trenches with folks who have been there themselves.

The Monday after the Friday when I got "the phone call" with "the diagnosis", I started the process of lining up appointments with potential surgeons. Dealing with a cancer diagnosis, as far as I can tell, is a bit like being your own general contractor on a house you're building. You kind of get a sense that you'll need a surgeon, and possibly a radiation and/or medical oncologist, maybe even a plastic surgeon. But do all of these people practice together in one location and with a "team approach?" No, that would be too easy. Instead, the process seems to involve going to the surgeon and talking about surgical options. The surgeon may then refer you to a radiation oncologist or a medical oncologist, depending on your circumstances. If you opt for a lumpectomy and then radiation, that's great, but in all actuality, you have to wait to get your final pathology report from the surgery to determine whether the one lumpectomy was sufficient, or not. If not, then many women go back for what is referred to as a "re-excision." Lovely. Even after two excisions, some women end up with a mastectomy (or a double mastectomy) in the end. And, of course, some women choose a mastectomy from the start. These are all decisions that have to be made based on each person's own unique circumstances and preferences. It's a bit like trying to find your way in the dark, though, if you ask me.

I have met with two surgeons, and felt much better about one of them than I did the other. I won't go into the details of my visit with the first surgeon, but suffice it to say that although I've never been a pill-popping kind of gal, I left that office with a prescription for Ativan and Valium because they had scared the living daylights out of me, and realized how freaked out I was. In between the two appointments with the surgeons, I had a breast MRI. Talk about petrifying. I don't know if I was more worried about being in the tube for 40 minutes or about what they might find, but I gladly swallowed the 10 mg of Valium that the first surgeon's office had prescribed for me, and that seemed to help somewhat. (Eli also was there with me and held my hand throughout, which also helped tremendously!) The good (well, great, actually) news was that although they took something like 3000 photos of my breasts (both), they apparently found no other areas of concern. Hours after that event, I met with the second surgeon, and perhaps it was due to her good fortune of being able to share good MRI results with me, but I honestly felt like hugging that woman at the end of our meeting. The choice of which surgeon to use was a no-brainer.

I will meet with the radiation oncologist this Tuesday to seek his "blessing" on the lumpectomy + radiation route. If he disagrees, then I'll have to consider a mastectomy, and I can tell you right now that if I'm getting one chopped off, I'm doing them both, and I'm doing reconstruction, too, and getting myself a new set of perky breasts. If all goes well this week, I'm hoping to have surgery on Nov. 1st or 2nd. And by my 44th birthday which is on Nov. 6th, I am very hopeful that I'll be done with surgery and looking at a November and December full of good food and cheer, lots of time with friends and family, and, last, but certainly not least, radiation treatments (oh, and throw in a short trip to Paris with Eli that is already scheduled, but which, for me at least, may be a bit up in the air at the moment).

Thanks for caring about me and for following my journey.

Love,

Erin