Chronicles of Karen

More on the Other Performing McKeown

2009-04-06T13:04:00.000-07:00

Last week was a musical one for Maggie (and by extension, me and Frank, her avid fans).

Wednesday evening was the Albany High spring choral concert, at St. Marks in Berkeley. I've been to a couple concerts there (to see good friend Monica, in the California Bach Society), and the church is a lovely place with very nice acoustics.

Then, this past Saturday evening, we attended the always-fun guitar recital at the Benicia home of her guitar teacher, Peter Morley. We always enjoy these recitals. Peter is a very giving teacher and a gracious host, and Maggie played "I Want to Hold Your Hand".

Before the recital, during the day, Maggie and I had joined the Cassims (with their visiting nephew, Sameer) for a mid-day visit to Sausalito. Lots of sun, a very nice lunch, and a bit of shopping. So, even before the recital, we were pretty pooped. When we returned home (around 9 p.m.), Maggie and I got comfy in jammies and watched some LotR (Two Towers).

The next day, Maggie and I went in to SF to finally pick some perfume to go into the bottle that was part of her Christmas. First we had lunch at City View (excellent dim sum) and then we smelled some fragrance at Macy*s. She thought she might like something from Chanel or Dior, but we looked at/took a whiff of several designers/brands until ending up with two possible choices from Dior--J'Adore and Cherie. We got some Ben & Jerry's while we pondered this monumental decision and then went back upstairs to get her a nice little Cherie gift box (that included a cute little purse and some body lotion). The sales guy--I think recognizing a potential future customer in Maggie--threw in an extra thing of body lotion for her.

A very nice weekend to kick off Maggie's spring break. At the end of this week, we'll be heading up to Tahoe to spend Easter with the Bauers. The fun just never stops!

"Full" House

2009-03-23T15:40:00.000-07:00

Emily survived the second quarter cuts in UCSB's BFA acting program, so she's still officially an acting major. :-) And, since that marked the end of the second quarter, she is home again for a week, for Spring Break. It's so lovely to have her home. We love love love having her around. I will be so very sad when she leaves again this weekend.

She and Maggie and I went to the Cerrito theater yesterday to see a sold-out 2 p.m. matinee of Labyrinth. Way fun.

I'm thinking this week I might need to take a PTO day to play with Emily while she's home. At the end of the school year, she's going to the UK for three weeks (where she and Grace Armstrong, a friend since preschool, will play tra la la and I'm trying not to resent my own daughter). So after this week, we won't see much of Emily until mid-July.

We get three more years of Maggie at home, so that helps a lot. I don't know how the parents of one child deal with this.

"The Happiest Place on Earth"

2009-02-25T20:59:00.001-08:00

The last place on my list of places to go--post chemo--was Disneyland or Disney World. And last weekend, I got to go to Disneyland with Maggie and some of her Girl Scout friends.

Sooooo much fun. First off--I genuinely enjoy the "house of the mouse", so to speak. And Robert & Deirdre Bauer were there (well, to be truthful, they drove, and arranged the hotel, and bought the tickets to the parks... um, they did most of the heavy lifting to be truthful), so, in addition to just having fun with the girls, I also had fun with two other adults who genuinely enjoy being in Disney territory.

I didn't end up getting to do Space Mountain, but I *did* get to do Thunder Mountain, the Matterhorn, Pirates, Haunted Mansion, and most important of all--Peter Pan's Flight. Here are the girls in front of the entrance to California Adventure (where they went on the river raft ride five times). I love Disneyland. I would go there again next weekend, if I could.

After two days in Disneyland, we spent a day at the Huntington, sort of on our way back home. I got to see one of the Gutenberg bibles and an original complete Shakespeare folio, along with a new exhibition of Lincoln memorabilia (which they called "Lincolniana"). To kick off the exhibition, they had a Civil War era band playing Stephen Foster music, and a Lincoln impersonator. He was checking out the exhibits when Robert and I toured the show later. I couldn't resist taking this picture.

Picking Up, and Then Some!

2009-01-27T13:12:00.000-08:00

I completed treatment last March (I wrote "finishing" at first and that seems like tempting the gods. Who knows if I'm finished? I'll be having a mammogram every six months for the next five years. So, let's just keep those clean so we stay "finished" and don't have to "resume" any treatment activities.)

And there you have my frame of mind. Last March I hit the ground running--literally. My friend Robert and I took Emily to San Simeon on her Spring Break (with a stopover in Cambria for lunch and a night at the amazing Madonna Inn). Then I met some college friends for some fun in Bloomington, IN and my sisters for even more fun in Chicago. Frank and I spent our 25th anniversary in NYC and then all four of us enjoyed a week in Twain Harte--one of our favorite places--at the end of the summer.

Maggie has started high school and Em is deep into the theater program in her sophomore year at UCSB. I'm taking on some of the projects I neglected last year at work and I'm a busy volunteer again.

Mostly, life has been getting back to normal. We like routine in our home. We like being together, and we also like the constancy of all of us being at home. It feels good. And right now I am throwing a bit of wrench into all that.

Last night I did something I've been wanting to do for several years now--I've joined a choir. It's been a while, so my sight-reading is really lousy (I was all over the map last night in practice). But the director said I have a "nice sound" and he appreciated my range. So, we'll work out the kinks as we go along, and I'll thoroughly enjoy doing it. And this Thursday I'm starting a Bollywood dance class at the Berkeley Y with some girlfriends (Hi Karen & Sarah!).

I figured out my schedule for the next 8 weeks or so, and I'll be out of the house two to three nights each week. In the somewhat recent past, this all would have felt a little much. But right now I'm very much in the mode of "what exactly are we waiting for?" and doing the things I want to do.

Frank, as usual, is nothing but supportive. He likes hearing me sing and so is glad I'm getting to do more of it. And I'm sure I'll have fun learning the Bollywood dancing, and Frank is sure I'll have fun, too. ;-)

And now for some philosphizing. (Warning! Deep Thoughts Ahead!)

I was recently chatting online with a young woman who is finishing up cancer for breast treatment (or, as she calls it, "The Bullshit") and I was telling her that there's no going back. That it's happened and the treatment is part of who you are now. And then it hit me, duh. That that's always been true. I'm sure that's obvious to all of you, but sometimes these very basic truths hit me right between the eyes. It's sort of like when I got to age 35 and it struck me, pretty much like a thunderbolt, that this is it. It's not a dress rehearsal: this is life. And I'm never going to be a rock star (that was a hard one to let go of...), and if there's anything I want to do, then I'd better get on with it.

To a great extent, I think I *do* do that. With the big things, anyway. But life intervenes, and it's easy to put some things aside for later.

I'll continue to put some things aside for later (becoming a world famous cabaret singer, for example). But some things, I'm figuring, I should do if I want to do them. And so through mid-May, I'll have choir practice once or twice a week. And for the next eight weeks, I'll be dancing along to fabulous Indian music at the Berkeley Y. Now I just need to figure out how to find the time to see the Oscar nominees before the awards show...

Jury Duty

2009-01-20T17:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I'll tell you I was more than a little bugged about having jury duty today. I went to Nevada to campaign for Mr. Obama back in November and I was really looking forward to the ceremony today. But I called the jury duty number last night and was told that I had to show up at the courthouse no later than 8:30 a.m. this morning.

First--I did not get chosen for a jury. And while most of me feels like "whew! I dodged *that* bullet," I also have to rhapsodize a bit about Judge Lawrence Appel. I've never seen a judge get a room of prospective jurors more interested in serving on a jury. He was cordial and friendly and respectful. I seriously would not have minded getting "stuck" on a jury.

Second--When I arrived at the Jury Room at the Alameda Superior Court, all the televisions were tuned to the inauguration.

Imagine a room filled with more than 200 people. Remember that this is a major metropolitan area. In that room there was every color, every creed, every age (well, above 18, anyway), and we all were sharing the inauguration together. We all applauded and we all laughed (and some of us, ahem, wept a little). And we all stood when Mr. Obama took the oath of office. It felt so wonderful to share this event with people I don't know, but with whom I share a democracy. Words won't serve. But I'm still glowing, after six hours of sitting through voir dire.

Yay us!

Back to "Normal"...

2009-01-07T15:11:00.000-08:00

...whatever that means. ;-)

I had a check-up with my oncologist on Monday and a blood test revealed that all my numbers are back to normal. (During treatment, I had been getting a steady dose of Neulasta to keep my count high enough to allow me to keep up the bi-weekly chemo treatments. These injections stopped, of course, when the chemo treatments stopped, and last June, my white blood cell count was somewhat low. Now, all is good again.) And since my most recent mammogram (December 1) was nice and clean, and my exam with Dr. Kuan yielded nothing scary, I don't have to have any more blood tests when I visit her. Yay!

In other news, we all went to see Slumdog Millionaire last weekend, with Jackie & Yusuf. A wonderful movie, and we followed it with curries and naan at Cafe Raj. A terrific date—I recommend it.

(Also, it's been a shocking two months since my last post. I'm getting back on the weekly wagon, just in case anyone is still reading.)

Gobama!

2008-11-04T08:47:00.000-08:00

Or, my friend Deirdre, the rock star

Deirdre and I spent the weekend in the Reno area of Nevada, canvassing for Obama. It was an interesting experience. We met some angry people, some friendly people, some hostile people, and some hopeful people.

When we arrived at her place at Incline Village, we found the Rolling Stone cover from July--with Obama on the cover--signed by the man himself. "To the Bauers, thank you for your support. Barack Obama." This magazine was addressed to Emily, and we had left it there over the July 4 weekend. But given that the signature is addressed to the Bauers (and given that they have been providing shelter to Obama campaign workers for the past month or two), I guess it's theirs to keep. ;-)

We went to Reno on Saturday morning, along with about 2000 other Obama volunteers, to be met by a full rainbow over the city. Deirdre and I started counting good omens.

The campaign sent us to Sparks, and working there was a bit of a downer. The neighborhood we walked seemed like it could be friendly enough but this election has a lot of people on edge.

We each had a "turf", with a list of names & addresses of voters who have not been regular voters. We also had their age, gender, political party affiliation, and any indication of how they were expected to vote (based on phone polling). Mostly, we were there to "Get Out the Vote" (GOTV), but occasionally we had someone we were supposed to "Persuade".

Anyone who knows Deirdre knows that she can talk the paint off a post. She also is somewhat disarming. So, though we had fingers pointed at us and at least one door slammed in our faces, Deirdre remained upbeat and was the best companion for this weekend I could imagine.

On Sunday, they sent us to Sun Valley. Though more economically depressed, the people there were friendlier, overall (coincidence?) We had a number of people express their gratitude for our work and their anticipation of voting.

My favorite, favorite, favorite story from this weekend is actually Deirdre's. But she doesn't have a blog, so I'll share it on her behalf. :-)

We were down a dirt/gravel road, in a circle of three or four prefab/mobile homes. Deirdre walked up the steps of one of the homes, knocked on the door, and asked the older gentleman who answered for the name on our list, a woman's name. We'll call her "Debbie".

Deirdre: I'm Deirdre, with Obama's Campaign for Change. Is Debbie here?
MOTH (man of the house): No, she's not here.
D: Do you expect her later? Should I come back?
MOTH: No, she's not coming back till December, at the earliest.
D: Oh, is she out of town?
MOTH: You could say that... She's in prison.

(He then starts telling Deirdre about the pyramid scheme "Debbie" was involved in and how she used someone else's credit card.)

D: I'm sorry. Is she your wife?
MOTH: Nope, she's my daughter-in-law.
D: Oh! Is your son going to vote?
MOTH: Don't think so.... He's in prison, too.

At this point, I believe Deirdre just asked the man how he was going to vote. I can't remember if he was registered and going to vote for Obama, or unregistered and would have voted for Obama if he could. But he was a hoot, for sure.

The next gravel road over, in a circle of another four prefab/mobile homes, I walked by three dogs who started barking. This got a dog over on the left going, and then two more over on the right joined in. Deirdre and I were surrounded by six barking dogs and we just started cracking up. Maybe you had to be there, but we thought the whole thing was just hilarious.

When no one answered, we left literature and then revisited later, to see if the literature was still there. Often it was, but if it was gone, we made a second attempt to make contact. It was a long two days, and Saturday evening, I think we both were feeling kind of down. But Sunday was reinvigorating and we relaxed that evening, basking in the feeling of having done a good thing.

However you're going to vote, be sure to do it today. Enjoy the fruits of this wonderful democracy of ours!

I Seem to Have Touched a Nerve

2008-10-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

I strongly suspect I am a proud member of the "small clique in Albany [that] have been running a very negative campaign against the candidates endorsed by the Democratic Party and the Sierra Club."

How did I, a humble lifetime Democrat (in fact, I'm leaving for Reno this evening to knock on doors for the esteemed Mr. Obama) end up running with such questionable types? I'm glad you asked.

First, go here and read the letter from Nan Wishner and then the letter from me. Hopefully, it will put things in perspective.

Honestly, I find it more than a little laughable that *I* am being accused of Karl Rovian tactics. I wrote a letter to a small, local website. The Sierra Club has blanketed Albany's doorsteps with an accusation of "negative campaigns". Have I missed something? Have other people written--or otherwise distributed--attacks on the local Sierra Club or Democratic Party candidates?

So, read the letters and then read the flyer and then ask yourself, "Who has the sour grapes?" I would be outraged if I didn't find their cynicism so laughable. John Muir is spinning in his grave...

Sorry It's Been So Long

2008-10-29T18:31:00.000-07:00

Wow. Six weeks since I last updated. I'm so sorry. Of course, that assumes anyone is still reading. ;-)

So, we joined a multitude of our Albany neighbors at an Obama fundraiser ages ago (well, it *feels* like ages ago) and Deirdre B and I got the volunteer fever (someone gave me post-its with the infamous "Stop me before I volunteer again" slogan). But the Obama guy was more interested in the Bauers' place in Incline Village as possible housing for campaign workers. So, she and I went to the MoveOn website and volunteered to canvas in Nevada the first weekend in November.

We both got emails about a week and a half ago, saying that what they really needed was not people canvassing the weekend before the election, but rather people working on election day and the day before. Deirdre and I both work full-time, so that wasn't going to work. Meanwhile, I got a phone call from the Obama campaign asking if I could go to Las Vegas this weekend. That wasn't going to work for a multitude of reasons (including my lack of frequent flier miles).

Finally, Deirdre got a phone call last night (Tuesday, seven days before the election) asking if she could go to Reno this weekend. She called me and--voila!--we're going to Reno this weekend. The Obama campaign called me today to confirm I was going, and so it looks like we're set.

And, Obama did his "infomercial" tonight. I went to google to see if I could link to this wonderful video for this blog, and--I kid you not--one of the choices that appeared in the Search box was "barack obama antichrist". Wow. Frank says that Rush Limbaugh has said that Obama "hypnotizes" people. Because, heaven knows, it couldn't be that people are just disgusted with their loss of civil rights, the economy, or an unending war. No, it must be that he's "magic". Hello, Salem anyone?

My word I am sooooooooooo ready for this election to be over. Well, and for Bush to be on his way out and Obama to be on his way in. That would be nice.

Home Again, Home Again...

2008-09-15T17:15:00.000-07:00

...Jiggidy Jig.

Whew. What a weekend.

Before
Last Wednesday, Emily tells us that her hard drive appears to have crashed. She got an appointment at the Genius Bar (Apple Help Desk) in Walnut Creek--the one in E-ville couldn't give her an appointment till Saturday. So, Thursday afternoon (the day before leaving for Santa Barbara), we went to Walnut Creek where the Apple "genius" informed us that, yes, the hard drive was dead. D-E-A-D, dead. Getting the rest of the information was a bit like pulling teeth. She could get her data retrieved by calling a phone number on a card. (Frank and I made the mistake of paying for lost data *once*. I would not recommend it.) We explained that we were leaving town the next day--what should we do about replacing the hard drive? Well, he suggested we buy one.

Well, okay then. Thanks. Um, any recommendations? Oh, sure. Okay? And? What might those be. Oh, well, here's how you take this one out and put the new one in. Okay, super. And, um, any specifications? (I'd just like to mention here that this guy is so lucky we saw him before the trip and not after. I think I might have had to bite him if I'd seen him after the trip....)

We eventually got specifications and we left.

Friday morning
Frank, Emily, and I went to a U-Haul pickup in E-ville at 9:30. The woman "assisting" us was at full capacity and it was not particularly comforting. After about 30 minutes, we had our 14' truck and Em & I went to Ikea to get her bed and a mattress. Then we headed up to Jackie & Yusuf's to get the furniture they so kindly gave to Emily (a dresser and two end tables) (along with the mattress and box springs they even more kindly gave me & Frank).

We got home a bit before noon. Frank helped us get the mattress & box spring out of the van and into the garage. Emily loaded the rest of her stuff into the truck. She and I had lunch. We ran some errands (including dropping off the painting that used to hang in the living room at Frank's office). Becky dropped off her screwdriver drill bits (thanks Becky!). And Emily and I hit the road sometime around 1:30 or 2.

The U-Haul truck drove reasonably well. The front seat is a bench, though, and I wasn't able to get comfortably to the gas pedal. So, after several hours, I was getting a bit of a pinched nerve in my back, from hyper-extending my right foot. We pulled over for an early dinner at the Copper Cafe in the Madonna Inn and then hit the road for the last 90 minutes.

We got into Isla Vista around 7:30. Unloaded the truck and immediately started on putting Em's bed together.

We finished building the bed around 11:30, and after a nice cup of hot tea with her roommate Lauren and their "temporary" guest Cooper (sleeping on their sofa till he finds a place of his own), we went to bed around 12:15.

Saturday morning
Boy, people like to party in Isla Vista. It was a bit surreal being completely and utterly surrounded by serious partying, into the wee hours. Some neighbors were going strong at 3:30, but I found my earplugs and all was good. Em slept with her roommate, leaving me the new bed. I felt a bit guilty, taking Em's bed the first night, but it was better than a sleeping bag on the floor, let me assure you. :-) It was quite comfy and I think Em will enjoy it this year.

Anyway. We found breakfast in the morning and then I took the truck to a drop-off in Goleta. Hertz picked me up and took me to the rental facility where I got my zippy little economy car. After getting roughly 11 miles to the gallon in the truck, I was thrilled to have the Hyundai.

I went back to U-Haul (the line was so long and the Hertz guy was waiting, so I left without settling accounts) and finished up there. Then picked up Em and took her to K-Mart for some essentials.

We took her stuff back home, and got things mostly organized, and then, I hit the road for home.

I felt a little bad about not taking my daughter to lunch before leaving, but: it had been a loooooooong 1.5 days, and I think she really wanted to get unpacked anyway.

I got to the Hertz rental at Oakland airport around 6:30. Frank picked me up, took me home, and made dinner for me (Thai shrimp). We watched a movie (Charlie Chan in Shanghai--pretty good) and I was in bed by 9 p.m.

I slept a good 11 hours and woke up Sunday feeling human again.

Em is all unpacked and has been enjoying cooking for her roommates. She made cinnamon rolls Sunday morning and then stir fry for them Sunday evening. A few of them are in downtown Santa Barbara today, looking for jobs. Oh! And I ordered a hard drive that will be shipped to her, hopefully this week.

And now? Back to my routine. <whew!>

Family Portrait

2008-08-19T13:20:00.001-07:00

We have a new masterpiece in our house. A family portrait--created by Rene Garcia, Jr. and a gift from the dear and wonderful Dennis Vaux and Robert Allen. Suffice to say, this little photo doesn't do the piece justice. First of all--it's glitter (!). And second, it's sizable (a little under 4 feet wide and 5 feet high). It hangs in our living room, where we used to hang an abstract painting. In the next few months, we'll be deciding whether or not to paint the living room, and how to properly light this. And meanwhile, we'll just enjoy it.

Our sincerest and most heartfelt thanks to Dennis and Robert who commissioned this family portrait. And our awe and gratitude to the artist, Rene.

Twain Harte

2008-08-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

We returned Saturday from a lovely, relaxing, sunny, hot week in Twain Harte. We're happy to be home, but when I win the lottery, I'm buying a place up there. During the summer, the teeny lake (courtesy of a dammed river from the Sierras) provides respite from the heat, as well as some of my favorite views.

And in the winter, you're never far from snow--Pinecrest and Dodge Ridge are a mere 30 minutes away--but getting there (and getting back to the Bay Area) is easy and mostly traffic free.

We usually stay in Cabin #20, courtesy of Twain Harte Vacation Rentals. And last year, probably the day after I got my diagnosis, I called the rental agents to see if our favorite house would be available this summer. I sort of assumed that the intervening months would be kind of crappy, and having the cabin reserved would give us something to look forward to.

And it did. The anticipation of the peace and relaxation we know up there provided solace during the year. And I enjoyed some happy meditation while we were there. As always, I was reminded of how tremendously lucky we are. To have the family and friends that we know is a special blessing.

In the past, we've gone to Twain Harte every other year for a week of blissful inactivity. Which means that, if we follow the schedule, we won't be going back until the summer after next. But I've reserved our favorite cabin for next summer, just in case.

A Couple Celebrations

2008-08-04T21:19:00.000-07:00

Maggie turned 14 a little over a week ago. She had a few friends over for curry and cake and what I refer to as "sneaky Jane Austen". The girls watched Clueless (a contemporary version of Emma), and then they watched Bride & Prejudice (a Bollywood version of Pride & Prejudice). A wonderful time was had and she felt properly feted.

And yesterday I celebrated my "all-clear" with a BBQ at Terrace Park. Here's the cake (courtesy of my darling daughter, Emily).

And that's how we do closure, Karen-style.

Without a Port

2008-07-21T17:38:00.000-07:00

Dr. Broderick removed my port today. <giggle> Yay! It was weird and really cool.

Frank and I were ushered into one of the examination rooms at the offices of First Surgical Consultants (I tend to hate generic sounding names like that, but I love Dr. Broderick, so I guess I'll let it slide) and I put on one of those lovely paper gowns (Frank said I looked like something out of "Forbidden Planet"). Dr. Broderick showed up and got right to work (and Frank left the room soon thereafter. I mean, there's a reason he's a lawyer...)

Dr. B cleaned the area and shot the area up with Lidocaine (pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn..... numb, yay!) He cut the skin above where the port was sitting and explained that the body creates a sac of scar tissue around the port. So he massaged and pushed and massaged and pushed to loosen the sac around the port and eventually it came out. That five minutes or so of massaging (probably less than that, but in these instances, it feels like such a long time, you know?) took up most of the time for the procedure and felt really weird. My skin was being pulled taut and so while nothing was happening at that moment, probably, it just felt weird. Like something was imminent.

And then, voila! I felt the tubing that led from the port to the Subclavian being pulled out. Kinda freaky and kinda neat.

He applied pressure to the spot where the tube had left the vein and I asked him how it healed. He said that the blood flow would prefer to just follow the path nature made for it, through the vein, rather than fight with other tissue and find a path through my body. So, it heals itself.

The human body. Just amazing. (When it's not being a total PITA.)

I can't see where the sutures are now--they're under a bandage--so I'm not sure if this scar just eradicates the one remaining from the insertion of the port, or there are two side-by-side. But given Dr. B's consideration and expert work on the two previous occasions, I'm not too worried.

I brought the port home with me (Dr. Broderick: "Um, you might want to wash that with bleach or something") and I smell a bit like a surgery (that blood and antiseptic smell). But no more foreign bodies in my body! Yay me!

When we left the office I was seriously jittery from an adrenalin rush, but we've been home for about an hour now and my head hurts a bit, and feels tired, so I'm already crashing. I expect to sleep well tonight.

(I go back next week to get the stitches removed.)

Goings On

2008-07-14T10:58:00.000-07:00

I've got my port removal scheduled for next Monday (July 21). Yay! Dr. Broderick (who I love, btw) said he can do it as an outpatient service in his office, and I admit I am intrigued.

See, while the hard silicone thing (into which they put the needles to draw blood and infuse toxic chemicals) is supposed to be near the surface of the skin, mine appears to be somewhat deep (much commented upon during treatment and subsequent blood draws). Also? It's connected to a tube that goes up to the Subclavian vein. Can they just pull that out? They don't need to suture it or anything? Finally, mine is much farther down on my chest than the one in the diagram in the link--Dr. Broderick very kindly placed it within a reasonable line of decolletage, so, um.... Well, I guess we'll just see, won't we?

This Weekend
In other news, Emily is doing the AIDS Walk next Sunday, with team I Love This World. Feel free to sponsor Emily and donate by going here.

While Emily is doing that, Maggie and I will less helpful to society at large by going to the Giants v. Brewers game. Frank shares in season tickets with several other people, so we get about 10 or 11 games a year. And I love the seats. They're on the third baseline, in the Club section. Which means if it's too hot, we can go up to the glass-enclosed food/drink section, which also is air conditioned, and still see the game.

Oh, and Friday night, we're all going in to the city to see the Chihuly exhibit at the DeYoung, along with Jackie (and maybe Becky?) whose husbands will be at the annual golf "debacle" with Frank and five other fine gentlemen, up in Graeagle this weekend.

Last Weekend
This past weekend we saw "Ironman" at the Cerrito--way fun, we'd all recommend it. It was fun and over the top in a good way. And yesterday we saw "An Ideal Husband" at CalShakes* in Orinda. The sets and costumes were lovely, the direction was fine, and the acting was fairly solid. It's the play itself, I fear, that doesn't quite stand up. The play drags a bit in the middle (the plot bogs it down just a bit) and the wonderfully sexist point of view at the end is a bit hard to take. But you can't beat the venue--amphitheater, set in the hills, on EBMUD watershed property, so you really feel like you're away from everything else. "Ideal Husband" is on for a couple more weeks and then next up on their calendar is "Uncle Vanya". They did a super job with "The Seagull" a couple years ago, so I'm looking forward to this next one.

*Dinking around on their site, I found this terrific video from CalShakes' Artistic Director, Jon Moscone (yes, son of George Moscone) showing the site of the Bruns Amphitheater. Actually the video on their site didn't work, so I tracked it down on youtube. Check it out:

Clean, Clean, Clean

2008-07-01T09:52:00.000-07:00

I had my mammogram last Friday and it was nice and clean.

Then, this morning? I got a phone call from Alta Bates. My PET CT, taken last Monday, also quite clean.

The relief is coming out in little spurts. I'm sure I'll be crying sometime today. Oh, wait. Yep, there it is--the watery eye.

<sigh> Have I mentioned lately? Life is good.

The Whirlwind

2008-06-24T14:15:00.000-07:00

Life has been crazy--in a good way, and this post is in two parts. This first part is all about the fun that's being had. What follows is all the post-treatment stuff going on later....

Let's Play!

The end of the school year was as hectic as ever. The week before school got out, Maggie co-hosted a party with several of her friends. Here they are: Shayna (whose parents graciously provided the house for the party!), Sarah, Maggie & Hannah (who both shaved their heads for kids cancer research--don't they both look fab?), Lilia, Nina, and Megan.

On Thursday, June 12, we went to the promotion ceremony for Albany Middle School. Here's a pic of Maggie in the dress that she & I made for the event, along with Siobhan, Julia, and Shayna (all girls we've known since kindergarten). The day after "graduation", the 8th graders all went to Marine World, and I hit the road for Santa Barbara. Em and I got her moved out of the dorms, and since she was the last of the three girls to leave, she got to take out all the trash/recycling and vacuum and get the room inspected. All went well and she and I checked in to the Days Inn in Buellton and then went to see Indiana Jones 4 at the local theater, after a nice steak dinner.

We got home Saturday and on Sunday, the 15th, we joined a Father's Day brunch for Frank's tennis buddies and then I got a wonderful birthday dinner of grilled lobster and Caesar Salad.

Monday we left for New York. I've cataloged our trip below, so for those of you who don't want/need all the details, you can avoid them easily.

Are We Done Yet?

Before we left for NYC, I had a brain MRI. (Purely cautionary--breast cancer can spread to the brain, and rather than worry, I'd prefer to rule things out.) This past Monday, I had a PET CT and today, Friday, I'm having a mammogram. Sheesh. But it's all for peace of mind, so I really don't mind.

I'll see Dr. Kuan on Monday, July 7, to go over all these test results and will hopefully get an "all-clear" sign. And then I can schedule having this port removed. Yay!

I'll post again after I see Dr. Kuan. But till then, no news is good news. :-)

*********************************
New York, New York, It's a Wonderful Town...

We got in Monday night, and met Ellen* & Mike at the very new & hip Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel for $20 martinis (images #2, 3, and 4 here), and then went to the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park for a less expensive, late night dinner (amazing shakes and cheeseburgers [Frank and Mike had theirs with a deep-fried portobello mushroom--I had a bite of Frank's, it was too much for me, but it was way yummy]). (*Ellen is Frank's youngest sister and Michael is her wonderful fiance. They live in Brooklyn.)

Tuesday we met Ellen for breakfast at Balthazar's, in SoHo--food was yummy and servings were *perfect*. Then we went to visit one of the two "Bird" stores in Brooklyn that Ellen manages and then on to Ellen & Mike's charming flat in Brooklyn. Wandered *all* over Greenwich Village and had pizza at John's (solid NY pizza). We got to the Daily Show at 3:30 (when they suggested you be in line) only to find that we were numbers #194, 195, 196, and 197 (out of 260). :-) The Daily Show was really, really fun. Then we went to the Garage in the Village for dinner and jazz (good steak, fun music, solid bar--thanks to John & Lynn for the recommendation.)

Wednesday.... Our anniversary! We wandered uptown (hotel was at 32nd between 5th and Madison ) and we got lunch at the Burger Joint (hidden in the Parker Meridien--Ellen showed me this place when I visited her last spring) and then walked the few remaining blocks up to Central Park and ate our lunch al fresco. Walked through the park where we witnessed, up close, the wacky phenomenon that is Upper East Side nannies and their charges in the park (mini soccer and softball camps set up within, while the nannies sat at the benches, visiting) and made our way to the Met so we could see Jeff Koons' rooftop sculpture (the balloon dog). Went back to the hotel and changed for dinner and then went all the way back up to Lexington and 74th(?) for dinner at Payard--really, really wonderful.

Thursday, whew! Mediocre breakfast in the hotel (eh, what do you expect?) and then made our way down to Battery Park and said "Hi" to Lady Liberty. We found Trinity Church and paid our respects to Mr. Hamilton, then headed back to our hotel's neighborhood which is now Little Korea. We found some really solid Korean BBQ and had lunch. Then changed for the evening and met Kevin Fitzpatrick (author of "Dorothy Parker's New York") for a walking tour of the places associated with the Algonquin Round Table tour. He was really gracious and informative and I would heartily recommend him to anyone visiting NYC. He left us very near our dinner/theater destinations, which also happened to be where my sister Dawn was staying with my niece Kiersten and so we went to see them in their hotel (Marriott Marquis). The four of us walked the five blocks to Natsumi for sushi dinner (Yelpers are the best--I found this place online and it was quite good). We said goodnight to them and went to the Music Box theater to watch "August: Osage County". Quite good. Frank and I still were talking about it, days later. Think "Sam Shephard with a sense of humor..." :-) (And as soon as I get Dawn's pics, I'll upload a photo of the 4 of us....)

Friday, packed and had the bags ready to go. Then wandered the city for the three hours until time for the limo to pick us up. Ran into my sister Dawn and her daughter Kiersten (don't you *love* cities?) and ended our walk at Bryant Park. I had already dragged Frank through NYPL, so this time we just sat on the grass and enjoyed relaxing for 10 or 15 minutes before time to leave NYC.

As you can see, a really wonderful trip.

On the Road Again...

2008-06-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

When it rains, it pours, right?

Today is Maggie's 8th Grade Promotion Ceremony, so we're a bit hectic at home about that. After the ceremony, she and Frank and I will have a nice quick dinner (her choice: hot wings) and then she'll head off to the 8th grade dance at Albany Middle School.

Meanwhile, I hit the road first thing tomorrow to go bring Emily home from Santa Barbara. We're spending tomorrow night at the Days Inn in Buellton/Solvang that was in the movie Sideways. We'll head home on Saturday.

Sunday is Father's Day and my birthday. We'll start the day with a brunch after the Dads' tennis game at the home of Beloved Husband, Tom Weimer, and his Lovely Wife, Carol. :-) Then I'll enjoy some quiet time at Azul Spa, getting ready for the week.

Because, on Monday, Frank and I head off for a week in NYC, to celebrate our 25th anniversary. We're staying at the Avalon, in midtown, and we've got quite a week lined up.

Tuesday, we'll be catching the Daily Show (hopefully with Frank's sister Ellen and her affianced, Michael). Wednesday we're enjoying dinner at a sweet bistro/patisserie (Payard), and on Thursday, we're dining with surprise friends (more later) before taking in a performance of the Pulitzer winning play August: Osage County.

In between the evening engagements, we hope to get to the Metropolitan Museum and maybe Battery Park and maybe the Guggenheim and maybe the Museum of Natural History, and maybe Central Park, and oh my. We might need to extend our stay.... Catch you on the flip side!

The Performing McKeowns

2008-06-05T08:46:00.000-07:00

So, Emily went to a summer theater program at Columbia University a couple years ago and came home declaring that she could never major in Theater. Having gone through a similar epiphany after my freshman year of college (and a year of Theater classes), I heartily supported this decision. She went off to UCSB in the Fall and dove into some really interesting classes in Philosphy, Art History, Comparitive Lit, Geography, and more. She was thinking she might major in English (this was beginning to feel a bit too familiar: I majored in English Lit).

Meanwhile, she had been "dabbling" in Theater at UCSB. She worked costumes for the Fall production. She took a Theater Movement class second quarter and a beginning acting class this quarter. But still, her communication with us indicated a "probably English" major. So, imagine our surprise. ;-)

After writing in her livejournal last Fall that she would *never* major in Theater, since that would probably just kill something she loved, she found it impossible to ignore the siren call. She auditioned for the BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts) program in Theater last weekend. And out of 40 kids who auditioned, she was one of the 13 who got in. Heh. Heh heh.

I've asked her if "Table Waiting 101" is part of the curriculum. She mostly ignored me.

But Maggie will not be outdone. She has been singing with the middle school choir this year and has been enjoying it tremendously. And she was fortunate enough to be asked by the 8th grade Jazz Workshop if she would sing a song with the band for the Spring Concert last night. Here she is, bookended by the passing BART trains.
And stay posted for the further adventures of the Performing McKeown Girls.

I'm a Media Star!!!!

2008-06-01T13:41:00.000-07:00

When I was in Chicago with my sisters in April, we chanced upon the Cottonelle Comfort Haven® on the Navy Pier. After getting chair massages and learning some exercises to help tone our gluteus maximi, we all filmed a "Be Kind to Your Behind" video testimonial.

Two weeks ago, we each got a check for $200 via certified mail to pay us for our services. And now you can see us on their website (go here). We're third on the video.

Now we're all just waiting for Cottonelle to realize what a gold mine we are, and ask us to appear in a regular ad. :-) Don't you think?

(Oh, and for those who don't know my sisters: Lynn=Banker, Dawn=Endoscopy Nurse, Bonnie=Cop. And you know me.)

Bridging and Motherhood

2008-05-14T20:20:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was quite wonderful--alternately busy and relaxing.

Friday night, Maggie's Girl Scout troop (which includes Siobhan, Lila, and Celia) met at our house, so we could discuss how they want to spend their cookie earnings (they have not given up on Disneyland....) and how we'll get started on the Silver Award. They spent the night and the next morning we all were on the road by around 6:45 a.m.

We arrived at Crissy field at 7:30 a.m. to help volunteer for the annual Golden Gate Bridging. (For those not in the know, when you move up to a new level of scouting, you "bridge" from one level to the next. Because we live near one of the greatest bridges in the world, scouts can walk across the Golden Gate Bridge to move from Junior Scouts to Cadet. Emily's troop did it, and I remember it being quite wonderful.)

Our troop worked at the registration tables until about noon, when the girls were released from their bonds. The girl scouts provided lunch and the girls spent the afternoon hanging out at the beach (Siobhan and Maggie) or in the field, listening to the DJ and taking photographs (Celia and Lila). When we left, I got this pic of the girls, with the bridge in the background.

I was utterly wiped out that evening--combination, early rise, sun, wind, volunteer duties, and old age--so it was a good thing that the next day was Mother's Day. Frank was a sweetheart, and arranged for a picnic at Tilden with the Rick and Becky Prices (including Jake and Nina), John Price, (Rick & John's mom) Harriet, (Rick and John's niece) Julia, and Jackie and Yusuf (and their nephew, Zaheer). We got the same spot in Tilden that we scored last year, and it was lovely. A bit chilly, but really lovely. Here are me, Harriet, Jackie, Becky, and Julia.

It was a wonderful weekend.

This week, Frank and I are playing hookey on Thursday afternoon to attend a Giants game together. And Saturday evening is Maggie's end-of-the-season soccer party. The fun never stops around here. :-)

Midwestern Sojourn

2008-04-29T10:28:00.000-07:00

My, but I do love the midwest. And I especially love Bloomington, Indiana.

My vacation last week was relaxing, blissful, fun, and just plain wonderful.

Part I: I flew into Indy on Saturday the 19th. My college friend, Janine, was gracious enough to put me in her guest room for the weekend. She and her charming family were going to a Seder (to which I was invited), but I went to dinner with Janine's college roommate, and my friend, Sue. The next day, we went on a fundraising walk for Best Buddies and then the three of us played around Indy. Sue and Janine made a wonderful quilt for me (pictured here) that has a cross-stitch of Maxwell Hall (from IU) in the center, and is surrounded by photos from our friendships, over the years.

On Monday, I drove down to Bloomington (a.k.a. B-town) and checked in at the Indiana Memorial Union. The campus was beautiful and I enjoyed walking around for a couple hours, revisiting some old haunts. My roommate, Melinda, drove up from St. Louis to play for a day or two, and it was wonderful to catch up on each other's lives. Here's a pic of Melinda, on a bridge over the "mighty Jordan River" that cuts through campus.

In Bloomington, I/we visited: our old dorm (where we managed to smuggle ourselves aboard an elevator, to get our pic taken in front of the door to our old room), the Arboretum, the aptly named HPER (Health, Phys Ed, and Recreation Building), the Art Museum, Beck Chapel, Myers Hall (the Bio building, where Melinda spent much of her undergrad career), Ballantine Hall (the liberal arts and humanities building where *I* spent most of my undergrad career), the Kiva Commons (where they had coffeehouse performances when we were students, but which now appears to be a pretty good sandwich/salad place), the Sugar and Spice bakery (where we rediscovered the joys of the peanut butter/Special K cookies), and so much more.

It's so satisfying to visit your alma mater and see it aging so gracefully. Whenever a change is made, it seems to be an improvement. The campus is in good hands and I look forward to future visits.

Part II: After three days in B-town, I hit the road for Chicago (and "enjoyed" the attention of an Indiana State Trooper along the way. Prone to a "leadfoot" on the gas pedal, I was being extraordinarily cautious on the road. What I didn't know, though, is that it is now a law in Indiana that one must move to the outside lane when passing a law enforcement vehicle that is stopped on the side of the road. Because I was ignorant of the law, the trooper "kindly" lowered my fine from $200 to $150. <sigh>)

Anyway. The weather in Chicago wasn't as perfect as it had been in Bloomington, but what a fun city. I got in on Thursday afternoon, checked in at the hotel, dropped off my car at the rental facility downtown, and then spent a lovely two hours or so at the Art Institute. My sisters got in around 9 p.m. and hijinks ensued. :-)

We visited the Navy Pier (where we videotaped a testimonial for Cottonelle toilet paper--look for us online at cottonelle.com in about three weeks), we took an architectural/historical boat tour,
we saw Blue Man Group and the Baton Lounge, we reminisced on the Northwestern campus with Lynn, and we walked and ate a LOT. (I still had indigestion when I landed in Oakland on Sunday.)

I always have a wonderful time with my sisters. I think we all feel so blessed to have each other and to enjoy each others' company so much. Three of us have kids (and one of us has a dog that is treated like her baby, but, ahem, enough about that), and we all work outside the home, so scheduling time together is a challenge. But it's so worth it.

Many thanks to Janine, Sue, Melinda, Lynn, Dawn, and Bonnie, for making time and travelling distances to play with me. And thanks to Frank and Maggie for being gracious about me being absent for so long. :-)

Maggie McKeown: Artist

2008-04-18T13:48:00.000-07:00

Well, artist is just one of things Maggie is, of course. But Grandma Mary came to visit last week, during Spring Break, and taught Maggie some basic watercolor technique. (Grandma Mary paints and teaches in Ocala, FL.) Herewith, a sample of Maggie's work. I, too, took a lesson, but I didn't have quite the same natural proclivity as did Maggie. I did, however, paint a tree, an pear, and an apple, with great assistance from Grandma.

We had a lovely, but all too brief, visit with Grandma, and our house is full of watercolors, to prove it.

Tomorrow, I head off for my "Post-Chemo 2008 Tour". First, I'm visiting Indiana (Indianapolis and Bloomington) where I'll get to see three out of four of some of my dearest friends, and my alma mater (Indiana University). Then, on Thursday, I'm driving up to Chicago, where I'll get to play with all three of my sisters. This is kind of a big deal. We're all busy and I'm interrupting more than one of their lives right now, but they're good sisters and they're humoring me by making an appearance in a city that I love. I'm sure I'll have lots of pics to share upon my return, on April 27.

A Wonderful Weekend

2008-03-27T11:38:00.000-07:00

I can't even believe it's already Thursday. Em's Spring Break is almost over, and it feels like it's barely even begun. We had a most fabulous weekend, bringing her home.

It started on Good Friday: I drove down to Santa Barbara, taking my time. I listened to Ragtime on tape, courtesy of Dennis and the SF Library, and stopped off at two missions on my way(Santa Ines and Soledad). It was an absolutely gorgeous day.

I checked in at the Ramada Inn (which is, thankfully, upgrading its rooms) and Em called me around 6 to say she was done with her last final (yay!). I picked up her and two stuffed duffel bags (girlfriend--how long are you going to be home?) and brought her back to the Ramada. We dressed and went to dinner at the Four Seasons. Di.Vine.

The next morning, after breakfast at Alfie's in Goleta/Isla Vista, we drove up to Cambria to rendezvous with Robert for the rest of the weekend's festivities. We all enjoyed a lovely lunch in the sun at the Indigo Moon and then headed over to San Simeon.

We went on tours two and five (evening tour) and had a fabulous, fabulous time. <sigh> Really. Wonderful.

After our two tours (preceded by a visit to the beach at San Simeon), we went to the Madonna Inn, in San Luis Obispo, for a picnic dinner in Emily's and my room, the Highway Suite.

The next morning, Easter Sunday, Robert, Emily, and I had breakfast at the Copper Cafe, and then Em and I hit the road. We were home by 1:30, well in time to enjoy an Easter Supper with Frank and Maggie, and also Jackie and Zaheer.

A lovely, lovely weekend.

Maggie: Pretty Bald Chick

2008-03-17T20:49:00.000-07:00

Team Albany before:

And Maggie at the end of her head-shaving:

And Team Albany after:

We are so proud of our bald daughter.

Who's Done?

2008-03-13T10:20:00.000-07:00

I am.

T Minus Two

2008-03-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

Just two radiation treatments left. I'm so very, very pleased. To celebrate the end of my morning radiation routine, I'm thinking I might force Frank to change our routine this Friday and have him take me and Maggie out for breakfast on Friday (Maggie has no school).

Speaking of Maggie, she is doing a great good thing and having her head shaved in support of the St. Baldricks fundraising event for childhood cancer research. You can see a pre-shave pic of her here. She's part of a team for her middle school, and they'll all get their heads shaved on St. Patrick's Day (next Monday). I'll post a pic of her new "look" after that.

Meanwhile, I am so looking forward to seeing Emily next Friday night. Her last final is at 4 p.m. that day (what a sadistic professor, to give a final mere minutes before Spring Break), and I've promised her a lovely dinner with her mother as a reward. The next day, we'll meet Robert in San Luis Obispo for our 24 hours of fun (San Simeon, Madonna Inn, mad hijinks...) Of course, I only realized this week that the Sunday is Easter. We typically have friends over for a feast on that day, but Em and I won't be rolling in to the Bay Area until about 2 p.m., so this year Easter will be a bit more lowkey than usual.

Give Me a Boost

2008-03-05T15:38:00.000-08:00

Today was the first of seven "boost" radiation treatments. My routine (check-in, changing into a hospital gown, assuming the position on the bed in the radiation room) was the same, but they had added an attachment to the linear accelerator. The lead alloy plate they made for me was at the end of the attachment, and they lined it up with the drawing they made on my left breast over a week ago. They left the room and zapped me for 30 to 40 seconds and then, ta da! I was done.

As we near the end of it, I have to say this whole radiation regimen hasn't been too onerous, actually. But I am looking forward to just waking up in the morning, having breakfast with Frank and Maggie, getting dressed, and then going right into work. And that day will be next Friday, March 14. Yay!!!

And now, with the end in sight, I'm thinking I won't be needing to update this blog so regularly. During this ordeal, I've been trying to update the blog on a weekly basis, but after I finish radiation next week, there won't be much of anything to report. Well, other than how much I'm enjoying my family, friends, neighbors, job, etc.

In the next few months, I'll be taking some trips for fun and will have some follow-up visits for the breast cancer, and I'll be posting after those occurrences. So, if you have a burning desire to follow my life, you might want to check this site on a monthly basis, rather than weekly, after next week.

And to those of you who will be happy to move on, thank you for keeping me company during the past seven months. It's been so comforting--in the truest sense of the word--to know that people were thinking about me and caring about me. I continue to be enormously grateful to have the life that I have. It's a wonderful and wondrous thing.

Thank you.

Radiation 201

2008-02-28T10:31:00.000-08:00

The whole brouhaha about the MRI and the (rather unattractively named) fat necrosis coincided with most of my radiation treatment, so I've not had an opportunity to share all the wonderful things I'm learning about this part of the process. There's a lot of detail here, so I hope I don't bore anyone, but I find this stuff fascinating.

First: I'm down to 10 remaining treatments (out of a total of 35), and it's all gone pretty swimmingly. Yay! Now for the details.

Each weekday morning, I arrive at the cancer center and check-in at the radiation department for my 8:30 appointment. Check-in is so well done, I feel the need to describe it. :-) You just walk up to the reception window and there's a flat screen PC monitor there. Touch it and the list of appointments appears. Touch the row with your name and appointed time (I am "Karen Z") and then touch the "Check-in" button at the bottom of the screen. There. Now the folks in the radiation rooms know you're there and will be available shortly.

After I'm checked in, I walk through a door into the "Gowned waiting area" (that's actually the sign outside the door) and go into a dressing room. I disrobe from the waist up and put on a gown, put my things in a little wooden "locker", and go sit in a chair for a couple minutes.

One of the technicians escorts me to one of the two radiation rooms, which are so, so cool. All sorts of radiation goes on here, for all sorts of cancers.

When they are planning radiation treatment, they put little pin dot tattoos on the affected area. These tattoos are used in conjunction with the many (six? seven?) lasers in the radiation room to line you up the same way every day, so they can be confident they're treating the correct area. In addition to the tattoos and lasers, they also employ other tools to make sure they can line you up with the totally groovy linear accelerator that delivers the radiation. For people with pelvic and abominal cancers, there are custom-fitted foam forms: they put the foam form on the bed/platform and the patient lies down on it. Since it's molded around *your* body, it helps you to lie down in the position they want. For brain and other head/neck cancers, they have these mesh "cages" that fit around the head and shoulders. These cages also provide a grid that enables them to align things with the lasers.

For breast cancer, you lie down on a slightly inclined "board" that raises your shoulders a couple inches above your hips. You bare the breast to be treated, raise the arm on the affected side (my left arm) and rest the arm in some holders that look a lot like the stirrups you rest your legs in when getting a pap smear. They are able to move the bed/platform in very small increments to line up the tattoos with the lasers. They also sometimes use the sheet I'm lying on to move me just the eensiest amount.

When I'm all lined up and everything is calibrated, the linear accelerator (or as I've come to think of it, the "zapper") is positioned over my left shoulder (where the affected lymph nodes were). They leave the room (can you imagine how much radiation they'd experience if they stayed in the room? <shudder>) When they zap me, it's not so much for an amount of time as it is for a dose (of radiation), but the dose typically takes about 30 seconds to administer to the area where the cancer infected the lymph nodes. Then, the technicians (really wonderful, friendly people, btw) come back into the room, adjust me the slightest bit, and reposition the zapper so it's on my right side, pointing at the left breast. They leave again and my left breast gets zapped from the right side for about 20 to 25 seconds. We repeat all this for one more zap on the left side (where the tumor was), which also lasts for about 20 to 25 seconds.

When we're all done, they tell me I can lower my arm, and I go slather aloe all over the area, get dressed, and go to work.

I've got just three more of these types of treatment and then I have seven "boost" radiation treatments. For those treatments, they created a special lead plate that enables them to direct radiation to just the tumor site on my left side.

Now, you might wonder, with all this special radioactive attention, if there are any side effects? Well, lethargy can be a side effect, but given that we were able to avoid my lungs in the treatment, I'm not really experiencing any tiredness. But. Even though I use copious amounts of aloe, and Aquaphor (TM), and olive oil cream, a person can't be given what is, essentially, a sunburn everyday without some skin issues. The area where my neck meets my shoulder on the left side is pretty sunburned. It is dry and itchy and it looks very red and angry. The breast is a little red, but mostly okay, so far. And as I said, just three more of these treatments (with a two day break this weekend) and then my neck can recover.

And there you go.

When radiation is done, the plan is: see Dr. Kuan at the end of March for a check-up and some blood work (to ensure everything is returning to normal). Assuming everything is groovy, I'll wait until mid-May for another check-up and blood check (and port flush--I still have the port and we need to ensure it's not clogged, so they need to "flush" it with saline every four to six weeks). In June, I'll have a CT scan to (hopefully) verify that there is no cancer in my body. In July, I'll have a bilateral mammogram, and if that, too, looks good, I can finally have the port removed. (It's a drag to remove it only to have to put it back in, should a person need more chemo.)

And there you go.

It's Not Cancer

2008-02-20T17:57:00.000-08:00

The lumpy stuff was, indeed, fat necrosis along with something else (we'll get a copy of the pathology report tomorrow, I hope). Frank says he already knew it, he's just glad I know now. ;-)

So, sorry for freaking everyone out.

Now I can relax and look forward to seeing San Simeon with Emily and Robert next month. Whew. I don't know what else to say. Just "whew".

Boy I love the world right now.

Almost There

2008-02-19T11:28:00.000-08:00

A brief aside: So many times in the past half year, I've felt like that guy at the end of Star Wars--the one who is tasked with dropping a charge into the chute that will cause the explosion and destruction of the Death Star. You know him--he's the guy who is focused on his targeting device and he keeps saying, "Almost there..... almost there.... almost there...."

So here we are again. Almost there.... :-)

The biopsy went just fine this morning, though I couldn't help but get weepy. The last time I did this the result was pretty awful and it's hard for my imagination to avoid that scary place. I've been a bit of a wreck for the past several days and I've been a little crazy/grouchy with my loved ones. My poor husband. His patience seems to know no bounds.

With the stress, it's been extremely difficult for me to fall asleep the past week or so, and last night as I was preparing for bed I thought, "Well, duh" and I took an Atavan. I feel asleep with nary a hitch. Thank heavens for medication.

Dr. Wong (Sue--for your chart--he's the doctor at the mammography and imaging center, and he did the biopsy this time, as well as last time) said it could be something called fat necrosis, and the samples floated in the solution in their little jar, so there's the bit of hope to which I currently cling.

We should have results by Thursday or Friday.

Open for business

2008-02-13T21:44:00.001-08:00

Our new office is in, yay! After moving a cabinet, packing up boxes of books, etc., and painting, California Closets finally came this week to install our new office. Here's pic of Happy Frank in the new digs. For the rest of the photos, go to Flickr.

Playing Hardball

2008-02-13T11:12:00.000-08:00

As Dr. Kuan said yesterday, "If they (ABMG) want to play hardball, we'll play hardball."

True to her word, Dr. Champion tried valiantly to contact Dr. Wong on Monday (and yesterday) to schedule a biopsy. He moves from imaging facility to imaging facility and so he was difficult to track down but she finally got his cell phone number (they're not supposed to do that, but she can be very charming and persistent) and got him to approve a biopsy for next Tuesday morning.

Of course, she left me this message while I was meeting with Dr. Kuan yesterday, and I didn't retrieve the message until Dr. Kuan left the examination room to try to track down Dr. Wong to get him to approve a biopsy. :-) It's all very symmetrical, isn't it?

Dr. Kuan said that Alta Bates Medical Group takes an egregiously long time to approve *anything* and that Hill Physicians is much better. Unfortunately, my primary care physician is not with Hill Physicians, so, unless I have another tumor, I'll stay with the awful ABMG.

So anyway, I have an appointment next Tuesday morning, and then I'll see Dr. Champion that Friday, and Dr. Kuan again the following Tuesday. And we'll know where we stand.

Meanwhile, Dr. Kuan says the mass (or hard area, or thick skin, or whatever you want to call it) has not grown in the four weeks since she felt it. She still suspects it's scar tissue, but given the distance from the surgery site, it's better to know what it is. (And if the MRI was inconclusive, we'd have to do a biopsy anyway, so....)

It feels good to have a plan of action again, rather than just waiting (and waiting and waiting).

Oh! and our office is almost done. I took pics last night of the job halfway done. They're at our house right now, finishing up. And then we shall start emptying our garage of the multitude of boxes. I'll post pics this weekend, when everything is in its place.

Still No MRI (but I love my radiation oncologist)

2008-02-08T10:33:00.000-08:00

The surgeon's scheduler called yesterday morning to say that though ABMG is telling us five to seven days, it's been their (the surgeon's office) experience that it takes them 15 to 20 days. She also said they had a patient who was even more clearly indicated for an MRI than I and it had been refused. They got it sorted out with the help of the insurance commission, but still. Given that Dr. Kuan felt this hard mass almost a month ago (1/15), that kind of delay is heart-breaking.

My lawyer was at home when this call came, and after taking this news from the scheduler asked me if it was time for a letter. I wholeheartedly concurred and we cranked out a letter yesterday to: the CA insurance commission, Blue Shield, Alta Bates Medical Group (the gatekeeper*), and the surgeon's office. The upshot of the letter was that this delay is unconscionable given that the surgeon, the oncologist, and the radiologist all agree it's indicated. And that if my cancer moves from a stage 2B/3A to a stage 4, and it's determined that ABMG's delay had anything to do with such an "upgrade", this letter is our stake in the ground. It's wearying, really. Conflict is not fun, but neither is letting bullies push you around, so here we are.

Meanwhile, my radiation oncologist, aptly named Dr. Champion, is frustrated and thinks that this is terrible (yay! for validation). She's going to contact Dr. Wong (the radiologist who recommended the MRI in the first place) to see if he can't just do a biopsy. And that would be lovely. So we'll see.

So, there we are. Once again, I'm weary of talking about this. As Frank noted, I am the Worst-Case Scenario Girl, and since the worst case is pretty icky here, I prefer just not to go there at all. Thank you for your continued grace and patience with me as I go about my "let's not talk about this until we know what we're talking about" stance.

*A brief explanation for those not enjoying my type of insurance. My insurance company is Blue Shield. I've had absolutely no complaints about them. They've been wonderful throughout. Likewise, my doctors--all absolutely wonderful. The problem has been the intermediary--Alta Bates Medical Group. Basically, Blue Shield pays the bills, but does not review all my claims, ABMG does. So, in a typical situation, the doctor prescribes a course of treatment, ABMG reviews and approves (or denies) it, and Blue Shield pays the bill. I'm assuming that this middle man gets some sort of cut, or gets some sort of compensation, and that expensive treatments take a bite out of their profits, and so.... something like an MRI (which is somewhat expensive) is dissuaded. My lawyer husband calls this "institutional delay" and it's not something they should be doing. But I think we all know that it's about the bottom line, and whatever a company--any company--can get away with, they will. Unfortunately, we're talking about someone's health here, which makes that posture even less palatable than ever.

Hair Today....

2008-02-06T12:04:00.000-08:00

Some peachy fuzz-like stuff starting growing on my head right around the time of my last chemo treatment, which means it was starting to grow even while I my body was processing the Taxol. Of course, to balance this out, I've lost most of my eyebrows and eyelashes... (it's all about the yin and the yang of life, right?)

Dennis took a photo of me to post here. At first, Frank and I were hoping I would be a lovely sophisticated silver or white, but it's looking very salt & pepper, so I'm thinking I might dye it in late spring/early summer, when the hair is around an inch long.... The hair is just long enough that some folks (who don't know me) are assuming the look is intentional. Ahem. Well, that's okay, too.

MRI Update: I called ABMG yesterday to follow up on the request for authorization and was told that it would be another five to seven days. Also, the person there indicated that the request was for MRI on both breasts. This strikes me as a mistake and what might be slowing down the process. I called the surgeon's office and left a message that I wanted to ask that he resubmit this request and make it "urgent". I've not heard back from him, so I don't know if he did it and didn't call, or if it's "in their system" or what. Anyway.

My radiation oncologist, meanwhile, had me give my info to her nurse, Donna. She felt that it was very possible that the request for both breasts might slow things down. In any case, they are pursuing the approval from their camp, so maybe between the surgeon's office and the radiation oncology office....? I mean, really. It's been three weeks since Dr. Kuan felt the lump. And I'm waiting for a #*&#$ approval. Ergh. More news when I have it....

(Have you noticed the preponderance of ellipses in this entry? Reflective of my current mood, I'm sure. Just waiting.....)

Make Me Wanna Holler

2008-01-31T16:14:00.000-08:00

To recap: My oncologist felt something hard in my left breast (the one currently being treated with radiation everyday for breast cancer) on January 15. I had an inconclusive ultrasound last Friday, January 25. The doctor on staff at the imaging center left a message for Dr. Kuan, recommending an MRI.

On Monday, my oncologist's nurse tried to get the authorization in for the MRI, but was told that my surgeon had to request the authorization. Why? I don't know why. But she was attentive to my needs and tried to pass it on to the surgeon's office and have them get the authorization.

Someone in that office told her that I needed to come in to the office before they could do that. I was somewhat outraged by that and called the surgeon's office, explaining that I had been in to see Dr. Broderick-Villa for a follow-up in December and I didn't see the point coming in to see them just to have them say, "okay, we'll request this authorization." Dr. Broderick called back that afternoon/evening and expressed his total agreement. He was very nice and said he'd get the request to the scheduler the next day (Tuesday).

Tuesday came and went.

At the end of yesterday (Wednesday), I called the surgeon's office and asked to speak to the scheduler. She didn't expressly state it, but it sounded like she did not get the request sent to Alta Bates Medical Group (my gatekeeper for Blue Shield) until that day (Wednesday). Furthermore, she said it typically takes ABMG 15 to 20 days (!) to approve MRIs. I expressed my surprise and she said that everything changed last summer and it just takes a really long time. And if they (the surgeon's office) mark it as urgent, to try to speed up the process, it gets stuck at the bottom of the pile and takes even longer.

Out of frustration, I called Blue Shield. I expressed my dismay and the woman agreed that, indeed, 15 to 20 days was an egregiously long time. She very nicely gave me the number to file a grievance, and suggested I talk to ABMG, to verify that they could/would/might take that long.

When I get this mad and/or frustrated, I cry. It's how I'm made and I don't like it, but there it is. So, weepy and mad, I called ABMG. The woman there was very nice (*you* try being mean to a woman with breast cancer who is crying at you on the phone--I dare you) and, while she wouldn't say it never taken that long, that was the exception and she would expect that, given my history, etc. I should have approval in three to five days. She told me that the request was not yet in the system and that I should call back the next day (today) to ensure that they had received the request.

And here we are. I called ABMG today and was told that the request was entered in to the system at 1:45 p.m. today. This is four days after the ultrasound, mind you. <sigh>. The kindly gentleman told me it could take up to five to seven business days for approval. (And then we get to try to schedule something. I wonder how long *that* will take?)

If I don't hear by Wednesday of next week, I'm calling to see where it is. And then, depending on how angry I am, I'll call Blue Shield or the surgeon's office or both. (I think the scheduler at the surgeon's office has too much to do, quite frankly. I think she could have turned this around a bit faster. Which is not to take any of the pressure off ABMG. But she really didn't need to scare me into thinking I wasn't getting an MRI for another month while obfuscating the fact that she had that request for a full day before she sent it in.) See how ticked off I am?

But honestly? For all you caring, wonderful people out there, who keep emailing me or trying to "not bother me" out of love and empathy--please know that for the most part, I'm somewhat Zen about this. It is what it is and I'll find out just what that is sooner or later (looking like later right now, isn't it?) And while I don't want to talk about this bit of the unknown, that doesn't mean I don't want to talk or that I'm fragile or anything. When we know something, be sure that I will let everyone know, right away.

In the meantime, life goes on and I have completed eight of 35 scheduled radiation treatments. Yay! I've written numbers 35 through 1 on my whiteboard at work and I'm crossing off each treatment. It's extremely gratifying. :-)

It Could Be Nothing....

2008-01-25T15:58:00.001-08:00

So, the ultrasound yielded more ambiguity. So they did a mammogram, which was similarly non-conclusive.

Dr. Wong tried to get hold of my oncologist, Dr. Kuan, but was unsuccessful. He wants to do an MRI to see if that tells us anything.

Basically, he says, the mass does not look like what he would typically think of as a cancerous mass. But he can't tell what it is and so says we need to do an MRI to see if anything has metastisized. If the MRI indicates it's not something good, or is--like everything else so far--inconclusive, then we'll do a biopsy.

Frank would prefer we just do the biopsy and cut to the chase. Me? I'm just tired.

So, we'll wait to hear from Dr. Kuan and then do the MRI. Meanwhile, I still can't talk about this. It's too frustrating and it makes me weep. And I'm so weary of weeping.

An Eventful Week

2008-01-22T17:26:00.000-08:00

It's been a very busy four days (in a good way).

On Friday, I had my radiation simulation. They did CT scans a week or two ago so that Dr. Champion could plan my treatment. Then on Friday, the radiation "therapists" (I tend to think of them more as "technicians", but if they need to call themselves "therapists", who am I to argue?) took x-rays to verify that the plans made based on the CT scans were appropriate. And they were.

Not only is my heart completely out of scope for the radiation treatment, but my lungs are only about 1 to 1.5 centimeters in range. The therapist was trying to tell me--without sounding weird about it--that I have a good build for this. Of course, that is good news, but what a strange thing to have a good build for, don't you think?

They also gave me a schedule of all my radiation appointments. I had my first of 35 treatments today. I'll go everyday (4:30 p.m. today, Wednesday, and Thursday, and 8:30 a.m. each day thereafter) for about 30 minutes.

I checked myself in today, changed into the gown, and waited for the therapist to come get me. Then Joel and (Andrew?) lined me up to match the photos and tattoo matrices (I have three pin dot tattoos surrounding the area), and then they zapped me three times: first was the lymph node area, then the left side of the breast and then the right side. And I was done. One down, 34 to go. :-)

This weekend Maggie and I had a really wonderful time with some really wonderful people. Deirdre Bauer and I drove up to North Lake Tahoe on Friday afternoon with Maggie and Celia. Carla and Deirdre Greene joined us Saturday with Siobhan and Lila. It was a little late to start skiing, so we went to some hot springs just beyond Carson City, where we all sat in the very warm, pleasantly smelly water (about 105 degrees Fahrenheit). That night, after dinner, I got a bit tipsy for the first time since August.

The next day, the girls all went skiing/boarding (after a lesson for each--three on snowboard and Siobhan on skis) and the moms went for a walk near the lake and ended up in the bar at the Hyatt (who could have foreseen *that*?). After dinner, the girls went to see 27 Dresses and Carla taught us how to play Bridge (and more wine was drunk).

Coming home was a bit eventful: the battery on the Mercedes took issue with the 22 degree external temperature, and this is why we pay for AAA each year. Deirdre Greene and I enjoyed an eight hour drive home yesterday, but we were fairly Zen about it. It was easy to be Zen when Carla had all four of the 13-year old girls in her car. I'd say that Carla has some serious karma in her favor right now.

Le Sigh

2008-01-15T17:18:00.001-08:00

Well, I went for my post chemo check-up with Dr. Kuan and she did what should have been a routine breast exam, just to make sure everything is okay. Unfortunately, there is something hard on my left breast, a bit beyond where scar tissue should be, closer to the nipple.

I told her that I experienced some pain in the area last night, and she's confused. Since the incision site itself is nice and soft, it's even more confusing. *Sigh* So. I'm having an ultrasound on the 25th (I know. Ten whole days. Can you even believe it?) to see if it's scar tissue (her best guess) or something else (which is why you do an ultrasound, right?)

More than anything else, I'm weary. I'm so very, very tired of this. And now, at what should be almost the end, we've got a "what is that" question. Well. There it is.

Meanwhile, still planning to start radiation. Got my "dress rehearsal" on Friday, and then I think I'm starting next Tuesday.

This weekend? Tahoe with Deirdre B, Deirdre G, Carla, and our daughters. I plan to drink. :-)

P.S. I genuinely appreciate the kind thoughts and words, but I'm not really up for talking about this right now. I'm frustrated and feeling a bit futile because I dont' have an action plan. I can't have an action plan--either way--until I know what's what. And I won't know that until the ultrasound. So, please, just try to bear with me until the 25th. And in the meantime, thanks for your patience.

Scratch "Chemo" off the To-do list

2008-01-09T18:14:00.000-08:00

My college roommate, Melinda, recommended I write "chemo" down somewhere and then put a check mark next to it. (Actually, she recommended I write "chemo 1", "chemo 2", etc.) I went in to work today, took down the Sweeney Todd newspaper ad that's been there for about a month (sorry Johnny Depp) and wrote "Chemo" in big letters. Then I drew a line threw it.

Very satisfying.

Later at my documentation team meeting, the writers gave me a fabulous box of gourmet chocolates (there are at least two serious chocolate snobs on my team and I am grateful to reap the benefits of their strong opinions). I had two of the chocolates after dinner and I feel quite sated (and loved).

Then! I went to get my final post-chemo Neulasta shot and the nurse gave me a congratulatory bouquet of flowers. This must be de rigeur there, because all the staff kept congratulating me on finishing chemo. It made me a teensy bit weepy, I confess.

So, yay. Now, on to radiation, which, truth be told, doesn't have me too concerned. I'm expecting the tedium of the routine to kick in at some point, but as someone pointed out to me several months ago, this is a marathon. And quite frankly, after four months of chemo, seven weeks of radiation doesn't seem like that big of a deal. Check back with me, though, around week four or five ;-).

Radioactive

2008-01-08T10:38:00.000-08:00

I had my radiation consult yesterday and I have my last chemo treatment today: this really is a week of milestones. (Yay!)

I met my radiation oncologist, Dr. Lorraine Champion, and liked her very much. ABCCC puts out a very good breast cancer treatment video and she's the narrator. (You can see her explanation of the radiation treatment here.)

They did a CT scan on me to assess how much heart and lung involvement there could potentially be in my radiation treatment. Basically, because the lungs are under the breasts, they can't totally avoid zapping them a bit, and this causes scar tissue (about 5% to 6%), which is not life-threatening. Of course, they'd prefer to avoid this with the heart, so the CT scan lets them know if they need to perform "respiratory gating". In this case, the patient has to fill the lungs, to push out the chest wall. Then, hopefully, the heart can be marginally protected. Of course, this means that you have to maintain this position during radiation and, um, can you say "kind of a drag"? Luckily, my heart is out of scope for radiation and I don't have to worry about this.

I have a simulation appointment on Friday, January 18, and then I should be starting treatment on Tuesday, January 22. Then I have 35 treatments, Monday through Friday. The entire appointment should take only about 30 minutes, so I should be able to do this either before or after work. The first 28 treatments will be for the entire left breast and for the area where they removed the ancillary lymph nodes (left armpit). The final seven treatments will be for the tumor area only. They call this "boost radiation".

And there's your Radiation 101.

I can't tell you how happy I am to be at my final chemo treatment. All in all, I have been extremely fortunate and have not suffered as much as many people I see in the waiting room at the Cancer Center. I thank my parents, Ralph and Nancy, for some extremely hardy genes.

And thanks again to all my friends, family, and co-workers who have helped with chemo, by providing company, or food, or housecleaning, or flowers, or just not telling me when I looked less than my best. I feel so inordinately lucky.

Hemoglobin Be Damned....

2008-01-03T10:03:00.000-08:00

....full steam ahead. :-)

My hemoglobin continues to hover in the 9's (9.4 yesterday, to be precise), so still no aranesp shot. But, all in all, that seems fine at this point.

Dr. Kuan says that a study was done that seems to link use of the shot with recurrence. She also feels that the study was one of those "let's give 900 mg of something to a rat and see what happens" experiments, rather than something that would actually indicate if something helped. (I love how rational she is.) Her point was that the insurance companies are using the questionable findings from the research to avoid giving the shot.

Furthermore, even if my hemoglobin drops below 9 (normal is 12 or above, btw) next week, it's my last infusion. So, while they might consider giving me a transfusion, it's doubtful because my system will start to recover within a few days of the infusion and we won't be throwing anymore toxins its way in the next few months, and my blood counts will start to recover all on their very own.

So, there it is. I'll be a good girl and try to get some iron into my system.

Meanwhile, the hot flashes are driving my tired soul crazy. Between anemia and menopause, I'm tired and cranky and a bit crazy. Please--if you see my family--be kind to them. They are having to exhibit major amounts of patience with me lately.

And honestly? The phrase "hot flashes" is a bit coy. I feel like I'm going to immolate several times a day. I'm so not kidding.

See? Even this entry sounds cranky. <sigh> I'm sorry.

In other news? We're starting on our "office" this week. It's Frank's and my Christmas present to each other. California Closets will be working its magic in the room just off the kitchen and everything should be done around mid-February.

Oh! and we booked hotel and flight for a week in NYC for our 25th anniversary this June. Something to look forward to, after all this nonsense is finished.

One to Go

2007-12-27T11:44:00.000-08:00

It's been a fun and eventful holiday season. And as I've maintained, the busy holidays have made the chemo trudge zip by pretty quickly.

Maggie's holiday choir concert was lovely, a week ago Wednesday. That's her, singing her solo, just to the right of their wonderful choir director, Kathe Jordan. Poppy and Grandma were there with us, and Grandma swears she got more pictures, which is somehow better. Being the competitive family we are, there was some discussion later about quantity vs. quality. The photo here is representative of "quality".

Christmas Eve was at our house. Jackie, Yusuf, & Shiraz Cassim, and Rick, Becky, Jake, & Nina Price joined us for a crab feast. Dinner was lovely and we all enjoyed the homemade "Bouche de Noel" that Emily spent all day preparing. Shiraz had recently shaved his head in a trendy fashion move and so I had company in the hairless department on Christmas Eve. Here's a pic of we hairless "twins".

Christmas morning was pretty wonderful and relaxing. Poppy and Grandma drove down from their comfortable sleeping quarters (at John & Lynn Price's--they were in El Salvador for Christmas) and we all opened presents sometime around 8:30 or 9, and then had a leisurely breakfast. That night we all went to Rick and Becky's for a wonderful prime rib dinner, and enjoyed the food and most excellent company. Andy, Nancy, and Allen Price were there, along with dear friends Robert Allen and Dennis Vaux.

And yesterday, Boxing Day, was my penultimate chemo infusion. Yay, yay, and double yay! Em took me to the cancer center after 1, and they were running a bit behind (four nurses had called in sick), so Frank picked her up at 5:45 so she could get ready for her guests (she had some of her friends over for gift exchange and sleepover), and then he came back to relieve her. We got out of the cancer center a little after 7 p.m.

And now? I have one infusion left. I'm still just-this-close-to-anemic (inching down from 9.6 to 9.2--where below 9.0 gets me the much needed aranesp shot). And I continue to suffer minor GI effects. All in all, really, nothing to complain about.

My folks left Fairfield this morning and should be in Pasadena sometime this evening. They're going to have tons of fun doing Rose Bowl parade touristing, along with some other SoCal delights, before heading on back East. We had a lovely visit and look forward to seeing their photos from their trip down South. Here's a parting photo of the lovely couple, from Christmas Eve.

It's the Holiday Season

2007-12-20T11:17:00.001-08:00

Sorry I've been lax in updating the blog.

I saw my surgeon on Monday and all looks good. I scheduled the removal of my port (yay!) two weeks after what should be my last chemo infusion. He also gave me a referral for a new baseline mammogram, to be taken sometime in March.

And I missed my weekly check-up with Dr. Kuan. Blame it on the drugs, blame it on the holidays, blame it on me just being spacy. But I basically blew it. They had scheduled me for a Wednesday appt with a different doctor, but then that turned out to be unnecessary, and while I was having my chemo last week, they rescheduled me to my regular Tuesday afternoon. I never updated my calendar and, bother, I missed the appointment. Bother, bother, bother.

Oh well. Let's just hope there's nothing exciting in the blood work so that when I go in next week, all systems will be go.

And in the meantime, I went to my office holiday party at the Palace Saturday night. Frank and I had a really fun time. Here's a pic of Frank, me, Jackie, and Yusuf. We enjoyed cocktails at Ame (a nice bar at the Regis Hotel) with the development directors, and hosted by our wonderful boss, Martha. And then we all went to the Palace for a very fun party. Hors d'ouevres, dinner, door prizes, and dancing. I was a bit low energy, but I danced three songs before asking Frank to bring me home. And we were in bed by 10. Oy!

Glass More than Half Full

2007-12-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

So we're 3/4 of the way there now. Yay!

I apologize for not posting in such a long time. The good news is that things have been pretty boring in cancer recovery land. The only ill side effect I suffered after the first Taxol (two weeks ago) was some muscle/bone achiness (it felt like I'd been working really hard in the garden the day before), which was easily remedied with some tylenol and advil.

In the meantime, we've been enjoying some holiday festivities with my folks, and getting some holiday shopping done, and writing Christmas cards, and working. Maggie had a nasty bug over the weekend (102.6 fever) and now is mostly better, but will have some trouble getting rid of the lingering effects, I think (coughs and sneezes). Basically, life goes on.

Mom accompanied me to my second Taxol infusion yesterday, and while things mostly went well, there were a couple bumps in the road. I was in the chemo room by 1:15, and the oncology nurse had my pre-meds all ready. She was having some trouble with the machine though, and so, while each of these three meds should have taken about 15 minutes, she had difficulty with the IV machine and there was a delay in getting each one going. It wasn't until my mom said, "maybe you should try another machine" that she seemed to consider this a viable option (there were at least two unused IVs in the room). Even taking these delays into account, I was ready for the Taxol no later than 2:30, and probably before. But my Taxol didn't get started until 3:10 p.m.

And then, about 15 or 20 minutes into the Taxol, I decided to throw some drama into the proceedings. The Benadryl (one of the three pre-meds) had pretty much knocked me out and so I was lying prone on the recliner. I was not necessarily sleeping, but I was dozing in an out and I was awakened by a tightening in my chest (felt like a classic asthma attack to me) and I could feel my cheeks flushing. I promptly knocked over my water bottle, reaching for my inhaler (poor Mom, trying to understand my mumbling and figure out what I wanted--sorry Mom!) while also trying to sit up and calling to the nurse, "I'm having a reaction to the Taxol..."

As soon as I was sitting up and had used my inhaler I was better. But the typical--and sensible--response to such a reaction is to stop the infusion. So, I got some O2 and felt better and the nurse took notes. A nurse and nurse's asst. ran breathlessly into the room, saying they'd been paged for a Taxol reaction and everyone told them all was okay. Good news--you don't have a crisis. Bad news--you ran down here for nothing. :-)

Since I was so clearly stabilized, they started the Taxol back up after about 15 minutes. Dr. Kuan dropped in to check on me, and to clarify what preceded my reaction, and we all think it would be better if I sat up during these infusions. Ah well. Only two to go.... :-)

Because I got started so late, I (and another patient) needed to be moved upstairs from the downstairs treatment room (where we were put because the main room upstairs was full when we started) around 5 p.m. Mom and I finally got to leave around 6:45 last night. I'm going to try to change my final two chemo appts to start earlier.

We got home, and Frank had made a nice roast chicken dinner for the five of us (Mom, Dad, Frank, me, and Maggie). And then my folks left for their RV up in Fairfield.

Oh! and this time, almost certainly because I did not do the steroids before going in, I got a full night's sleep last night. I feel great this morning and look forward to getting lots done. I'm sort of assuming I'll feel some aches and pains tomorrow, but again, I know it's easily remedied. It's not nearly as awful as the nausea, which required meds that knocked me out, and which has their own dopey residual effects. I prefer clarity, but that could just be me. :-)

In other news, Em has three finals this week, last one Friday at noon. So, we're hoping to see her bright shiny face by 8 or 9 on Friday night, when we'll be enjoying the company of John, Lynn, Kevin, and Sarah Price.

We're planning to get our Christmas tree on Saturday morning, and then Frank and I are going to my (always very fun) office holiday party at the Palace. We're spending the night there--carving out some romantic alone time in the middle of chemo and the holidays. All in all, it should be a lovely weekend. Hope your holidays are lovely and warm and (relatively) stress-free!

Change Is Good

2007-11-30T09:39:00.000-08:00

Wow. My body is so very grateful to have been spared another treatment of Adriamycin. Tuesday's Taxol infusion and the aftermath have been much easier than the four prior AC infusions.

Mom and I arrived at the cancer center at 7:45 a.m. Tuesday morning. After blood work and some waiting, we were ushered into the chemo room and settled in around 9:15. I got the usual Kytril and Decadron (I had also taken some of these steroids the night before) and then got doses of Benadryl and Atavan. Those last two knocked me for a loop and I might misremember some details here, but nothing too awful, I'm sure. The Taxol infusion started, finally, around 10:45.

The nurse, Susan, was really helpful and explained to me and Mom everything she was doing. We both know a fair amount already, but I always prefer when a medico bothers to explain what they're doing--I much prefer a lack of mystery in my medical encounters.

All the little chemo cubicles have two chemo chairs (little recliners next to IV drips) and Mom and I were joined by a very nice woman named Pat, who was getting chemo for her second bout with ovarian cancer. One of the more interesting conversation points for me (well, at least, as much as I can remember) was about the concept of "chronic cancer". I've had several friends with breast cancer or with benign lumps or just cysts, and increasingly, breast cancer is being viewed as a treatable disease. It's kind of a freaky view after growing up with the notion that cancer equals death. (Well, a freaky view but also an extremely *welcome* one).

This notion, though, also requires a certain adjustment in one's thinking about life's duration. I will finish chemo in early January, undergo radiation, and then get a PET scan for the hoped-for "all clear". And then, because breast cancer can pop back after many years in remission, I will continue to be tested regularly in the hopes that I will continue to get these "all clear" results. And at some point, if the cancer makes an unwelcome appearance, I will go through some version of all this again. Kind of a drag. But, as they say, it sure beats the alternative.

I think if you had told me all this a year ago I would have found it extremely depressing. But after going through what I've experienced thus far, I am not so much "Zen" about it as I am matter-of-fact. The cancer is a fact. And so is the treatment. And there it is. Nothing more or less than that. (Frank might disagree with that perspective somewhat, as he told me at breakfast this morning that when this is all over I need to ensure it doesn't happen again. Because, as he noted, it's really not fun.)

So, anyway. Philosphical interlude aside, the treatment went well. Mom and I left the cancer center around 2 p.m. She drove me home and I settled into the sofa for an episode of Columbo and the occasional dozing. I don't even remember going to bed, but I obviously did because--and here's where the fun starts--I awoke at 1:23 a.m., and was not able to get back to sleep. I gave it the old college try for quite a while and gave up the ghost around 3. I've had insomnia before, post-chemo, but this was different. I had some energy and so decided to get some work done. I logged in on the PC and was amazingly productive.

Around 8:30 in the morning I went for a walk with Deirdre Greene, and then continued working until about 1 p.m., when I had to go back to the cancer center for my Neulasta shot. I figured that, after chemo and no sleep, I'd be ready to crash after that, but no! I went to Ashby Lumber and picked up a toilet to replace the almost useless upstairs toilet (Superior Plumbing installed it today and yay! we have a toilet that actually works now). After Ashby Lumber, I went to 4th Street and got a little bit of holiday shopping done. And then I went to the market to get some juice to ease the ingestion of the glutamine I'm taking to (hopefully) prevent the neoropathy associated with Taxol. Finally, around 4 p.m., I decided to take things easy.

This probably doesn't sound like a big deal, but given my past infusion experiences, this was beyond delightful. I was positively giddy with the energy I was feeling. Oh, and all this was without any drugs. No nausea, no nothing. It was lovely.

Yesterday, Thursday, I experienced some of the muscle pain my doctor warned me about, but that was easily handled with Tylenol and Advil. It could be that my body was just happy to have a change from the Adriamycin, and it could be that Taxol will just be easier. But for now, it's just really, really nice to not be doped up or nauseous or tired.

Now the only remaining hardship is the conjunctivitis I can't shake. I have an appointment with an opthalmologist on Monday to try to address this and in the meantime, I figure I can just deal.

And this weekend? Tomorrow is December 1 and that means I get to harrass my family into decorating for Christmas (not that it requires that much harrassment). We'll do everything but the tree, and then I hope to drag my mother around to some of the open studios in our area this weekend, just for fun and to get in the spirit.

...That Flesh Is Heir to

2007-11-26T10:10:00.000-08:00

In Hamlet's "To be or not to be" soliloquoy, he talks about "The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to." And he never went through chemo. :-)

What we all know (or think we know) about chemo is that it makes you nauseous and it makes your hair fall out, right? Well, not to be a downer, but there's a few other side effects that don't get as much press. They're not life-threatening, or debilitating, and also usually not apparent (like the hair loss), but they are a drag and when they're cumulative, they can be a real PITA.

Between mouth sores, a case of conjunctivitis I can't seem to shake, and some lower GI issues that have some other implications (I'm *trying* to be discreet), it's hard sometimes not to whine.

This reminds me a bit of when I was pregnant and I was left to discover some of the side effects of pregnancy and childbirth that aren't discussed in all those helpful books. While it's true that all my symptoms are listed on the literature for the meds I'm taking, I didn't really pay much heed. Because I almost never have the potential side effects they warn about when I am given new medication. But chemo is a whole new world, as I keep learning.

Meanwhile, my parents are visiting for the holidays and we're having a really nice visit. We've been playing card games and just hanging, for the most part. And Mom will go with me tomorrow to my first Taxol infusion.

Emily was home for the weekend and Frank was shocked to see that her head did not seem to have grown to accommodate her bigger brain. Our friend John says that doesn't happen until sophomore year, so we've relaxed a bit.

Happy Thanksgiving Week!

2007-11-19T13:31:00.000-08:00

I am so very, very happy to say that I am done with Adriamycin and Cytoxan. Ick, ick, and ick again. I have reached that point in chemo where just the *thought* of chemotherapy makes me feel queasy, so I am especially pleased to be starting the next course of treatment next week.

Jackie was my chemo-buddy for the final AC. We got to find the other chemo room, downstairs, the existence of which I was completely unaware until we spent several hours there. Jackie was remarkably well-equipped with magazines, water bottles, and even a conversation topic game. She also brought her camera and so I am able to include this pic of me and Dr. Kuan.

I have my blood draw and check-up with Dr. Kuan tomorrow, at which point I'll schedule my Taxol infusions. If everything goes according to plan, we're most likely looking at one infusion next week, two in December, and one in early January, and then (dare I say it?) we're done with chemo. More importantly, the Taxol is supposed to be easier to take than the AC. A small percentage of folks have a bad reaction to the Taxol (such as my friend Karen C-O), and Dr. Kuan says we'll know right away if I'm in that minority (fingers firmly crossed).

Meanwhile? The holidays are starting! Yay! I'm a huge sucker for Thanksgiving and Christmas and already am listening to holiday music at work, and at home when I can get away with it (it scandalizes Frank, so, not too often at home). My parents are already in California after a mad dash across the continent (the story of their 2007 RV trials and tribulations are really fodder for a whole other blog) and should be at Travis Air Force Base in Fairfield early tomorrow.

Emily found a ride from UCSB and gets home sometime Wednesday evening.

We feel lucky to be spending Thanksgiving with John & Lynn and their table(s) of 27. I love big Thanksgivings, and we've been honored to be included in the Price family Thanksgiving for several years now. It will be lovely to relax and visit and just enjoy the holiday.

We wish you and yours the very best, happy, peaceful holiday. See you again after Turkey Day.

Just Hangin'

2007-11-12T09:05:00.001-08:00

I was *supposed* to go shopping with my dear friend Jackie yesterday, but I was a weenie and I bailed. I felt somewhat guilty about it--she had, after all, made time for me during her weekend. It's not as if I was doing anything important yesterday. The most exciting thing I did was walk up Solano with Frank, to get some coffee at Peet's.

You might think (or at least, *I* would think) that during my "good" week, I'd be eager to get things done, to take advantage of not feeling nauseous or crampy or just generally icky. And Saturday morning, we ran quite a few errands and accomplished a lot. But I'm finding that during my so-called good days, I want nothing more than to laze around, enjoying the fact that I don't feel like crap. For example, I really had planned to get some laundry done yesterday. A modest ambition, right? Did any laundry get done? Absolutely none. Ah well. That's what the "is it clean or is it dirty" clothing pile is for, right? :-)

During our walk yesterday, Frank and I stopped at Five Star Video to get our week's worth of Columbo DVDs. We've always been big Columbo fans, and we have found these DVDs to be pretty wonderful for chemo recovery. We've seen almost all of them, but we can't always remember whodunit, and it's always fun to watch Columbo trip up the "smarter than thou" murderer. And the ones we haven't seen are interesting (and you can sort of see why they're not in constant rotation with the others).

Spielberg and Jonathan Demme both directed episodes. And Steven Bochco (Hill Street Blues, LA Law, and NYPD Blue) was an occasional writer. And the actors! It's so much fun to watch Roddy McDowall play an entitled nephew who rigs a cigar box to blow up in his uncle's limo (thus paving the way for him to run the family chemical empire).

And what can one say about Peter Falk? He's just brilliant, that's all. We're still in Season One, so we're enjoying watching the evolution of the idiosyncrasies that we have attached to his character over the years. In the first couple episodes, he drank bourbon. By the fifth episode, no more drinking. In the first season, his cigar is always lit, but we know that later, it never is. He talks about his wife, the famous-by-her-absence Mrs. Columbo, from the get-go. But the dog (named "Dog") doesn't show up till later.

If you've not seen Columbo in a while (or <gasp!> you've never seen it), rent some episodes from your local DVD shop the next time you're feeling under the weather. It's perfect sick-time viewing.

I Love My Oncologist

2007-11-09T08:06:00.000-08:00

I had my check-up with Dr. Kuan on Monday, after a very rough weekend. My stomach still was causing me some distress on Monday and while I waited first for my blood to be drawn and then to see Dr. Kuan, I kept getting teary. I had to keep reminding myself to get a grip, that really I was doing fine, but I kept getting weepy.

So when she entered the examination room, and asked how I was, I just got weepy all over again. I apologized and explained that I am kind of spoiled by just how well my machine of a body typically works. And while there are lots of drugs for the nausea, the stomach cramps that I had been experiencing for three days were really just getting on my last nerve.

And what did my good doctor do? Well, she wrote me a prescription for something to reduce the acid in my stomach (still waiting for insurance to cover that, thank you). But first, she got up and gave me a hug. A really long one. Which made me cry again, of course, because I am nothing if not a one-woman answer to drought. Then she stepped back and said, "You need to do something for yourself this week. Pamper yourself. Get a massage."

Don't you love her? I'm getting a facial tomorrow (clean pores *and* a face, neck, and shoulder massage). Kisses to Dr. Kuan for the permission. If only insurance covered facials.....

Meanwhile, my numbers are still really good (like I said, I have a pretty good machine). So, on to the next and final AC infusion on Tuesday.

Chemo Stinks

2007-11-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

I wanted to be a bit more rude in that headline, but decided to spare the feelings of some of my gentler readers. Suffice to say that I would happily donate to any cause that could find a way to cure cancer without chemotherapy. It is a serious drag.

We drove to Santa Barbara on Friday (about a five hour drive) to visit Em for Parents & Family Weekend at UCSB and I was feeling tired but mostly okay. Saturday I was wiped and losing energy fast and by later in the evening, I was accosted by the same cramps that had attacked me on the Saturday after my second infusion of AC. I was pretty miserable for most of Saturday evening/night and Sunday just kept nibbling at carbs to keep my stomach on a mostly even keel as we drove home.

Today, Monday, I feel mostly better but really am so ready to be over this. Ah well. One more infusion of the AC left (next Tuesday) and then we get to do a change-up to the Taxol. I figure, if nothing else, at least my body will be faked out by the change in meds and things should improve, even if just temporarily.

Meanwhile. It was wonderful to see our older daughter in her new milieu and thriving. She's a non-partier at a party school and so I think it's fair to say that she's not finding a surplus of new boon companions. But she's putting herself out there (interning for CALPIRG and working costume crew for the theater department's fall production of Woyzeck) and she seems to be loving some of her classes.

After a five+ hour drive, we arrived Friday evening and picked up Em and took her downtown to State Street for dinner. The next day, Saturday, I was partially mobile and after an aborted campus tour (We bailed after this pithy observation by one of our tour guides: "We have five nobel laureates here at Santa Barbara and they are professors. And they teach"), Em took us into the infamous Isla Vista where we had pizza for lunch. For the rest of the day, I hung out at the University Center while Frank and the girls walked the campus. Em and Maggie had some nice sister-time and went rock climbing at the Rec Center later in the afternoon (Emily: "I'm pretty sure Maggie is part spider monkey") while I got cozy on a sofa at the University Center and Frank checked out the bookstore.

The weather was mostly foggy and/or undecided, so we never did get to the beach or the pool, but that's okay. Emily was the main attraction and we got to see lots of her.

We're looking forward to having her home, if only for a few days, at Thanksgiving.

Wigs, etc.

2007-10-31T11:25:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in updating. I've been either working, socializing, or taking a much-needed break to veg.

First up! My co-worker Colleen went wig shopping with me on Thursday. It was quite the excursion.

When I googled for wig shops in San Francisco, the top-rated place that showed in the listings was a place called "Rosalie's". It's way out on Columbus Ave, at the edge of North Beach, almost to Fisherman's Wharf. Colleen and I managed to snag parking right outside the shop (virtually unheard of) and wandered in.

This place was amazing. First, the place was simply jam-packed with stuff. Wigs competed with dresses and accessories for space. There were dress racks suspended from the ceiling--you'd have needed a hook to get anything down. And second, the many styles of clothing and wigs available made me fairly certain that Rosalie's is frequented by our transgender friends. We saw the Liz Taylor wig, as well as the Jaclyn Smith, and even the Dodie Rosecrans--SF socialite--circa 1970.

Anyway. We made our way through the maze of wigs and clothing and started to feel that unless I wanted something truly outrageous, this might not be the shop for me. And then, we rounded the final corner and came across at least 4 wigs that would work perfectly.

The man working the store asked me to sit down in one of the barber chairs situated in front of a mirror, so he could try the wigs on me. (This man was teeny: I'd be shocked if he weighed 90 pounds, truly. And if he is under 70 years old, I'd be shocked. But his hair and moustache are both still jet black, so he's still working it.) He tried on two of the wigs Colleen and I picked out and as he prepared the third, he said that after we were done with these four wigs, he'd like to try one on me that he had picked out. We tried on the four wigs and got two "maybes" out of the bunch. And then he tried on the wig he picked out. Herewith, the "Bobbi" (though you have to imagine that "i" dotted with a heart). Bobbi definitely out-ranked the other wigs and the longer I looked at it, the more fun it was. I mean roots? On purpose? So, we purchased the wig for a *steal*. Quality wigs typically start at $250-$300. When I asked how much the wig was, he seemed to be somewhat embarrassed and whispered, "$65". Um, okay, we'll take it!

To see the other two fabulous wigs I've got, as well as a shot of me sans cheveux, you can go here: Karen's Hair Looks.

I've also got some new chapeaux to show off (including a fabulous hand-knitted cap that looks a bit like a fuzzy blonde fro), but that will need to be another blog entry.

The rest of the week was good. Work got done and then Maggie and I enjoyed The Magic Flute at the SF Opera, along with her friend Siobhan, and her mom (and my friend) Dierdre. We had brunch in the city (Absinthe, for those of you who know SF) and got to the opera for a 2 p.m. show. Nice end to a pretty weekend.

I had my third infusion yesterday and Maggie accompanied me. She missed a few classes at school, but I feel that right now, we have to have some perspective on our overall outlook. She learned, I think, what I'd hoped she'd learn--it's not scary and it's a bit boring. I gave her a brief tour of the cancer center and then we both did a lot of waiting, with the occassional bit of attention. We checked in at 1, and Frank picked us up at 4:45.

Today is Halloween and lucky Frank will be opening the door and handing out candy. I will be firmly esconced somewhere in a prone position, watching trashy DVDs. Or, hmmm, maybe Lord of the Rings.

Oh, and Frank has the best joke of the week. I was telling him that I can't sleep on my right side because that's where the port is. It's uncomfortable to put too much pressure on it, and I'd hate to dislodge anything. So Frank says, (are you ready? It's somewhat nautical in nature) "You can't sleep on your starboard because of your port!" Get it? No? Ah well, you can google it if you're really curious.

Not Much to Report

2007-10-23T13:31:00.000-07:00

This is my "good" week and things are going very well.

The weekend was a bit bumpy. I developed some stomach cramps on Saturday afternoon and so was unable to enjoy any of the three parties we were lucky enough to be invited to. Thankfully, Frank was able to make a brief appearance at two of the parties, and I was able to have lunch with the other party boy today, so I don't think we've burned any social bridges. :-)

The past few days have been mostly about Maggie--trying to ensure she's got what she needs in terms of time, attention, and anything else. She's been weathering this storm very well, I have to say. She's quite the trouper. She slept late Sunday (thank heavens, as she had stayed up until 3:30 the night before, on a sleepover) and then she and I cuddled and watched the end of The Age of Innocence. Then we went to Macys because they were having a Clinique bonus (you buy something and you get groovy little make-up/skincare samples and a cute little bag of some sort). She also wrangled some very fuzzy slippers and a dress out of the trip. But I got tired after only about an hour and we headed on home.

Meanwhile, on the hair loss front: I think by Friday I had lost about 3/4 of my hair and the remaining hair both itched and hurt. It was insult to injury and I couldn't stand it anymore. So, I took some hair scissors and cut off the remaining hair and had a brief cry. I don't mind being bald--truly. This pathetic stubble just looks so sad. Bald would really look better than this. Frank tried to help by shaving the rest, but my hair is so fine, he had to give up after we got the nape of the neck cleaned up.

The good news is that it no longer hurts (I'm convinced that it was the weight of the remaining hair pulling on the almost empty follicle that hurt) and the remaining stubble continues to fall out. So, in another week or so, I should be hairless.

And Frank is allowed to call me "Sinead", but most definitely *not* "Kojak". Just sayin'.

My lovely and wonderful friend Robert brought two wigs in to work for me yesterday. One is long and auburn with bangs (Susanne) and the other is a short, black pageboy with bangs (Anna). I will be grooming them both soon for occasional hat-free days. When I have pics (hopefully next week sometime), I'll post them. I'll also post a bald pic, just because, I mean, please. You've got to document this stuff for posterity, haven't you?

And Here We Are Again...

2007-10-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

....on the other side. Mostly.

Day + 3 this time is much the way it was last time. My stomach is feeling a bit timid, but I'm drug-free and so feeling pretty good. I'm pounding the saltines and drinking the water, and even better--I'm not doped up on the sofa all day.

Tuesday evening, after the chemo, I was fatigued, but okay. Wednesday I was mostly okay, but fatigued. Thursday I slept and watched DVDs and ate some pretty bland food. Frank made pasta carbonara for dinner, which I enjoyed, but might have been a tad bit heavy for me. I didn't suffer too much, though, so, all in all, a good couple days.

We're lucky enough to be invited to several birthday parties this weekend, but I think we'll be seeing how I feel tomorrow before we make any social decisions for the weekend.

Meanwhile, my hair is mostly gone. I'd say I've lost a good 3/4 of it and it's so very sad looking. :-) I really wish it would just finish falling out so I could be done with it. I'm wearing lovely hats, including this very nice cap that Michael knitted for me (the pic is from before hair loss), and I'm sure the hats would be more comfortable without the pathetic itchy remnants of hair.

Two Down

2007-10-16T18:08:00.000-07:00

Well, the chemo part is done, and now we just get the next couple days of fatigue, headache, hair loss, and (hopefully limited) nausea. So, I'll more sincerely feel like it's "two down" sometime around this weekend, I'm guessing.

Once again, the adriamycin gave me a minor allergic reaction, which triggered my asthma. No biggie, just interesting. And I'll probably add a benadryl or something to my mix of pre-chemo drugs next time.

I'll be working from home tomorrow, and Thursday (based on my experience last time with Day + 2) I'm planning to take the day off and wallow in DVDs (Jeeves & Wooster is pretty high up on the list). If the pattern follows last time, I should be mostly okay by Friday. Time for more finger crossing out there!

It's also time for a big thank you to all the friends and family out there who are taking care of us. The emails and cards, the groceries and baked goods, the carpools and flowers. Really. I'm not sure we always show the appreciation we feel. Please know how grateful we are and how loved we feel. Thank you.

My Hair Hurts

2007-10-15T09:17:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure how many men will understand what I'm talking about here, but I'll try to describe the current sensation on my head. When you have longish hair, and you wear it one way (combed this way or that) for too long, if you comb it the other way, sometimes the hair follicles hurt a bit. A classic case might be when you have a relatively tight pony tail for a long day and then you let it down and it actually hurts, just a teensy bit.

My entire head feels like that. No, I take that back. The lower back of my head (where the hair is shortest) doesn't really feel all that bad--though it is not without sensation. But the top of my head and the sides... ooof. Anytime I move my hair, it hurts. It's not debilitating or anything, but it is starting to give me a headache.

This started yesterday and it simply reminded me of the other times in my life I've felt that sensation and all I needed to do was give it a good brushing to relieve the discomfort. So I brushed my hair and an hour later, it still hurt. Today, it hurts a little less than last night, but still I have the hint of a headache.

I'm planning to go wig shopping next week. ;-)

Lesson Learned

2007-10-12T09:50:00.000-07:00

I'm guessing there's a reason that when the nutritionist was talking to me about diet, she did not include Mexican food from Juan's on the list of "rebuilding" foods.

I was in a truly cranky mood on Wednesday and so decided I needed Juan's for lunch to help comfort me. The words "big mistake" don't do the idea justice.

I have told my friends at work that if I even mention Juan's again in the next four months, they are not only to dissuade me from such madness--they are to slap me. Hard.

I had serious indigestion all night and most of the following day. It didn't really dissipate until last night. I don't think it was the spiciness of the food, per se, because it wasn't all that spicy. I think it was just the overall lack of any nutritional value in what I was eating. Loaded with fat and flavor, yes. But not much else, and my digestive system let me know how much it disapproved.

I promise I'll be good from now on. Really.

Numbers Are Good

2007-10-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

I had my bi-weekly checkup yesterday with Dr. Kuan. My white blood cell count and platelets are within normal range. My red blood cell count is a bit low, but still okay, she says. Given that yesterday was the 9th day, she said that if my white blood cell count was going to be low, that would have been the lowest day. Other than that, I'm healing just fine from the surgeries and, assuming my numbers are just as good next week (they test my blood before every chemo infusion), I'm good to go.

I told her that I'd heard that the side effects were "cumulative", inasmuch as your body grows weary of fighting this stuff and the side effects become worse with each infusion. She said that was definitely true of the "numbers" (white blood cell, etc.) but not necessarily true of the nausea. I'm wondering if she's just trying to help me maintain some cautious optimism, because then we started talking about the inherent suggestability of some words/sensations (like nausea).

I told her about the poor ill man at last week's chemo orientation, and she told me about a patient she had when she worked in Houston. He lived outside of Houston and so had to drive in for his treatments. It got to the point where all he had to do was see the sign for Houston as he entered town and he became nauseous. Another patient only had to hear her name and he became nauseous. So, there you go (and there you are). The wonderful world of chemo side effects. :-)

....And Back into the Light

2007-10-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

Whew. That was certainly an interesting three or four days.

To recap: I had my first chemo treatment on Monday. All went well and I was fatigued Monday evening and experienced some insomnia that night.

Tuesday I felt okay. A little light-tummied and tired, but otherwise, okay.

Wednesday? Ick. Not so great. I was still using the Emend (the finest in anti-emetic medications) but the nausea would not be kept at bay. So, I supplemented with another medication that just wiped me out. So I felt nauseous and dopey. Perfect. By the end of Wednesday, I was starting to feel better and was actually able to eat some real food (as opposed to the saltines, almond butter toast, and yogurt I've been consuming since Monday afternoon).

Thursday morning I felt pretty much the same, but without meds, so I took that as a very good sign. I stayed on the saltine/toast/yogurt diet and got through the day just fine.

And today, Friday, I feel very hungry. Yay! Frank made me some very tasty bran muffins with flax seed for breakfast and I might get really crazy and have half a sandwich for lunch. No, don't try to stop me... :-)

In other news, Frank and I attended the Chemotheraphy Orientation at the ABCCC last night. It was interesting (intentionally and unintentionally). First the intentionally interesting part. Among other things, we learned that a) cancer cells rapidly divide, and b) the way chemo works is to attack rapidly dividing cells. Of course, your system has other cells that are rapidly dividing. These include cells in your GI track and your hair & nail follicles. Which explains many of the side effects of chemo. There was a lot of other information, too, and it was useful, overall.

The unintentionally interesting part was when the pharmacist kept talking about the N/V (nausea/vomiting) side effects of chemo. She was obviously knowledgeable and experienced and knew her field, but English was not her first language. And so everytime she said "nausea/vomiting", it sounded a bit harsh and abrupt. She described the various stages of "nauseavomiting" explaining that you could have Level 1 vomiting would would not be very much, or you could have Level 5, which would be pretty much all the time. The man sitting to my left had not, thus far, experienced any of these side effects, but confessed that with our friendly pharmacist constantly saying "nauseavomiting", he was beginning to experience some pschosomatic symptoms. This did not seem to impress the speaker as she continued to say over and over "nauseavomiting". Finally, the gentleman stood up and said he thought he needed some air. Before he could get to the door, he started to swoon, and luckily one of the nurses was there to catch him. The poor man was out like a light. When we went to bed last night, Frank and I kept cracking each other up, saying "nauseavomiting" repeatedly—remembering the absolute oblivion of the woman who tortured that poor man into fainting. (And have I made you a bit queasy with that charming story?)

Sleep patterns are weird, but that's a lot easier to handle than the ickiness of nausea. Typically, it's Frank who's up at 4 or 5 a.m. each day. Today, I was up, too. I was very hungry and so had a small bowl of cereal to tie me over until breakfast. But I got plenty of sleep, so I'm feeling fine.

So, while I wrote on Monday, "One Down....", today, I feel that a bit more sincerely. Here's to hoping the next infusion isn't any worse than this one was.

Symptoms Update

2007-10-04T07:32:00.000-07:00

Monday (infusion day) was pretty much fine. I had a low-grade headache for most of the day and that evening. I had some insomnia between 1:40 and 4 a.m., but otherwise, things were okay.

Tuesday I was a little light-tummied and my cheeks were flushed (I wasn't feverish, but I looked like I was). But I was able to go for a nice walk and I was mostly okay.

Yesterday? Ugh. On the one hand, I am happy to report that the anti-nausea drugs appear to be working. While I am occassionally feeing nauseous, I'm not getting sick. On the other hand, they kind of knock you out. I felt tired and or dopey most of Wednesday and that is just a drag.

I know, I know. I really should quit my whining. Imagine going through this without all the many anti-emetics available to me.... <sigh>.

Anyhoo. I slept well last night and have my fingers crossed for today.

One Down—Nine to Go

2007-10-01T13:29:00.000-07:00

Frank and I checked in at the Alta Bates Comprehensive Cancer Center (ABCCC hereafter) around 8:30 this morning. Around 9, they took me to the VAD Draw room where I was swabbed and then they put the totally cool little hooked needle/catheter into the port. They drew blood for testing and then sent me back out to the lobby. I took the first of the Emend 3-day anti-nausea treatment pills and prepared to wait.

Typically, we're told, it takes them about 20 minutes to do the blood testing and then they start to gather your chemo meds, but they had some issues this morning and I didn't go back to the treatment room until about 10. No biggie, really. As Frank reminded me, this is the beginning of a marathon--there's no need for sprinting right now (i.e., chill).

I neglected to take my camera with me this morning (maybe next time?) so I shall endeavour to describe the treatment room. Imagine a large room, maybe half the size of a basketball court. In the middle of the room is a nurse station/counter. Lots of carts, and monitoring equipment, etc. scattered about. (Probably not "scattered". Probably placed. But to my untrained eye--scattered. I don't judge. I merely observe and report.)

Around the perimeter of the large room is a succession of glass door cubicles. There must be 20 or so of these little cubicles. In each cubicle are two easy chairs, a TV, a visitor chair, a bathroom, and cabinetry with supplies, etc. Also, primarily, of course, the automated IV machines that let them administer multiple fluids simultaneously.

I was seated and they took my vitals (again. Three times today I had my vitals checked. They are nothing if not thorough.) Jessica, the nurse, explained that first, they'd give me some anti-nausea meds with the saline IV. When that was done, she had to "push" the nasty Adriamycin (also known as Doxorubicin) through a syringe into the IV. It was the color of Kool-Aid or Hawaiian punch and it triggered my asthma. Just a bit of a drag, and Frank retrieved my albuterol inhaler from the car, just in case, but my body sort of picked up the slack and the asthma started to dissipate on its own, so I was fine.

It took about 20 minutes to finish up the two fat syringes (looked like about 25 cc's each) into the IV, and then Jessica put the bag of Cytoxan on the IV rack.

While we were patiently waiting (me with my fabulous elasto-gel therapeutic cold gloves, to try to minimize the effect of chemo on my hands and fingernails), the pharmacist dropped in to see if I had any questions about the meds they'd prescribed for me (three anti-nausea meds, in addition to the Emend I take the first three days of the infusion, and an antibiotic for if/when I spike a fever) and to make a list of everything I'm taking (including my asthma control meds).

He was pretty young and cute and very earnest and he typed up the list and printed a copy for me, so when I see a different physician for any reason, I can just whip out my list of meds for them. Most excellent.

When he was done, the nutritionist stopped in to talk about my chemo diet. First week is to "dextox" and to make sure I'm not taxing my system but ensuring I get what I need. Second week is the building week--lots of legumes and other non-heavy proteins (sardines, wild salmon, cottage cheese, eggs). She also recommended Glutamine powder the first week (yum!) and ground flaxseed. Oh! and the good/interesting news: she'd prefer I drink green tea, but that it not be decaffeinated. She doesn't like to have the tea any more processed than it need be. So, there you go. I *can* have a cup of tea in the morning.

When the Cytoxan was done, about an hour after it started, the nurse "flushed" the catheter with saline and then shot me up with Heperin (anti-coagulant, to prevent clots). She removed the needle and catheter and Frank and I were on our way home by about 12:15. One treatment done. Yay!

With all the anti-nausea meds, I'm being cautiously optimistic, and thinking I'll be fine tomorrow. But, we've been told that, if it's coming, tomorrow is when the nausea will hit. So, keep your fingers crossed.

Sometimes Life Is Especially Unfair

2007-09-27T09:00:00.001-07:00

Very soon after getting my cancer diagnosis, I went online and looked for "cancer diets". You'll be shocked to hear that it's mostly common sense: no caffeine, no alcohol, lots of dark green, leafy vegetables, lots of fruits, and anything with antioxidants. And I've been pretty good. I've pretty much completely dropped the caffeine and alcohol and it's a pain, and a drag, and a bother, but I feel like it's just not that hard to make those changes for the duration of this healing process.

But honestly, I figured I could dabble in caffeine and alcohol after radiation. I mean, why not, right? I'll be better and life should resume. And then stupid Kaiser hospital has to publish this.

Sometimes life is so unfair.

Ready, Set, Go!

2007-09-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

What a busy couple of days we've had.

First: we got Emily happily esconced in her dorm room (Anacapa Hall) at UCSB over the weekend. We left home at about 10:30 a.m. on Saturday with a borrowed van (thanks again, Sarah & John!). We hit a bit of traffic around Watsonville, and some very icky rain a couple times, but got to Santa Barbara before 4:30. We managed to wrangle our way on to campus, stopped off at the bookstore (where we picked up Em's preordered books) and then left her bike locked up in front of her dorm. (Emily's room is one room away from this back door to the dorm. Not too shabby.)

After spending a lovely evening at the Ramada Limited and a quick morning visit to the Mission Santa Barbara, we got Emily moved in to her dorm, had lunch with her in the dining commons, and said "see you in five weeks" around 1 p.m. on Sunday. (I didn't get weepy until we were halfway down the hall.) Frank and I were back in Albany around 6:30 last night.

Second: On to today. I had a 10:30 appointment with my medical oncologist. All went well and she said that, as long as my surgeon is okay with it, I can start chemo next week. Finally! Don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly excited about chemo, but I do feel that the sooner I can get started, the sooner I can be on the other side of this, and I'm really ready to get started.

(It turns out I will not be doing the Taxol test. The treatment involved pills and self-injections and Dr. Kuan nixed the whole idea. It was kind of funny listening to her talk to the research department. "That's not a good test. No, you really should just scrap that test. What about this other one? <listening> No. That's not a good test. These are not really good tests." Anyway. We're doing the prescribed 4 cycles of AC and 6 cycles of Taxol, each two weeks apart.)

I scheduled a Monday morning first time infusion for the AC (I'll be there from about 9 till 1 p.m.) and a Tuesday follow-up for a shot of Neulasta (to get the white blood cell count going).

At 2:45, I met with my surgeon. He confirmed what Dr. Kuan told us--the margins were clean and there is no residual cancer in the breast or lymph node area. Yay! He said that, yes, I can start chemo whenever Dr. Kuan is ready. Then he brought up radiation. He talked about the "mammocite" proposal he had mentioned during our pre-surgery consult over a month ago. Mammociate radiation is when they put a balloon catheter into the tumor site and zap you with radiation from the inside as well as the outside, for five days. This greatly reduces the radiation time (from five/six weeks to five days), so that's a plus. On the other hand, there really aren't any long-term statistics for this form of radiation yet and so no one can offer assurances that it will be as effective, in the long run, as the good old six weeks of daily radiation.

If we pursued this form of radiation, we'd need to do it before chemo, and so we really needed to get Dr. Kuan's opinion. I called Dr. Kuan and after some phone tag, we spoke about the radiation. Given my high risk status, she doesn't recommend the mammocite radiation. So, there we are.

We'll start the AC on Monday and then do three more cycles over a period of eight weeks. When that's done, we'll get started on six cycles of Taxol over twelve weeks. Then we'll take a short break and get started on the radiation.

And, in the interest of fair and balanced reporting ;-), I have to say that I am in love with Blue Shield right now. They approved one of the more expensive anti-nausea meds (Emend) and so other than having a liter or so of toxic chemicals in my body next Monday, I should be feeling okay.

University of Casual Sex and Booze

2007-09-21T12:52:00.000-07:00

Well, Em says she has heard UC Santa Barbara referred to in that manner. Of course, it was from a friend who was going to an even more notorious party school (not printed here for self-protection).

We're borrowing the Tonkyn's minivan (thank you Sarah & John!) to which they have attached their bike rack, and we're hitting the road tomorrow around noon. We get to move Emily in to her dorm (Anacapa for those of you looking at a map of UCSB) starting at 9 a.m. Sunday.

I've been a bit tired the past couple days and Frank keeps offering to do the trip solo with Em, but I don't think I could stand that. So, I plan to stay with the car while they're unloading and then go park and slowly make my way back to the dorm while they're putting things in the room.

Other than that, I shall be observing and trying not to interfere in the negotiations to fit three young women (and all their stuff) into a room built for two.

Maggie, meanwhile, will be spending the weekend with friends. She has a soccer game on Saturday, around noon, and after that, she'll go to Siobhan Bauer's house, where I know she'll be well tended.

Frank and I hope to get home Sunday before too late so that Maggie gets to bed at a reasonable time. Wish us luck!

Surgery: Double Check

2007-09-18T08:10:00.000-07:00

....and just be grateful it won't be a "triple check".

There was some doubt as to whether or not we'd get approval for the port to placed during this surgery and I was starting to feel a bit pouty about the prospect of a third surgery. But, yay!, someone pulled a rabbit out of a hat, and they put the port in place yesterday, during the recision.

The recision doesn't hurt much, but the area where they put the port is pretty sore. I gather they had to move some muscles around to get everything in place.

But, all in all? Things went swimmingly. Surgery started a bit late (I was wheeled in to the OR a bit after noon, rather than at 11:30), but I was home before 5 p.m. and I got to sleep in my own bed (much more restful than sleeping in the hospital).

Thanks to Joanie, Karen, and Dorothy for cleaning our house again yesterday, while Frank and I were in the hospital all day. "Thank you" to Becky for a wonderful dinner. And thanks to my co-workers for the most fabulous box of chocolates (a box made out of chocolate, filled with chocolate), accompanied by the loveliest sentiments.

I will be meeting my oncologist next week to schedule chemotherapy. And in the meantime, we'll be getting Emily packed up and then settled at UCSB.

A New 'Do

2007-09-16T20:49:00.001-07:00

I've decided that I don't really want to wait for my hair to start falling out, and then have a sad couple days with long grey hairs wrapping around my brush, etc. So, I took matters into my own hands (well, and those of Paul, at Festoon). I got a short cut I'm calling my Chemo Cut. To be more accurate, it is, of course, a pre-chemo cut, but I would not be getting it if it were not for the chemo, so I still think it's appropriate.

Okay, and now I'm babbling. :-)

So, ta da! Here I am. Freshly shorn.

Monday Recision

2007-09-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

I'm scheduled for the recision surgery on Monday, September 17, which is easy for me to remember, as it's my parents' anniversary. (Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad!) ;-)

I'll check in at the hospital at 9:30 and surgery is scheduled for 11:30. Assuming everything goes well (and remember, we have no nasty lymph nodes to deal with this time around), I should be done by 3 p.m. and then home around 4 or 5 p.m.

Meanwhile, the MUGA this morning was pretty boring. Frank and I showed up at Alta Bates hospital, where we checked in at Nuclear Medicine. I got shot up with some radioactive isotopes and then waited for about 15 minutes for them to circulate through my bloodstream. Then I was put on a narrow bed and had 3 leads put on me for the heart rate monitor. I had to put my left arm up over my head and the kindly nurse, Mark, strapped my right arm around me, so I'd stay nice and still. He positioned the circular scanning device over me and it slowly moved around my heart for 20+ minutes.

Frank asked if he could talk to me and Mark said, "yes, just don't make her laugh." So, at one point, Frank starts to tell me how he's going to prepare the Smithfield ham he just acquired.

Frank: I'm going to cook it the Alton Brown way.
Karen: And what way would that be?
Frank: Well, you braise it in Mr. Pibb.
Karen: Mr. Pibb?
Frank: Yeah, and sweet pickle juice.
Karen: You're not supposed to make me laugh, remember?
Frank: That wasn't supposed to be funny.
Karen: Sweet pickle juice?
Frank: Oh, okay. ......Iraq.

You gotta love him.

2B or not 2B?

2007-09-10T14:51:00.000-07:00

Frank and I saw Dr. Kuan today, to go over the pathology report and to discuss chemotherapy. What a long appointment.

First, the details. The CT scan showed the breast lump and the rather large lymph node in my armpit, but that's it. So, yay, we get a zero on the M(etastisis) for the TNM staging for breast cancer. We told Dr. Kuan that Dr. Broderick had said I was staged at 3A (67% survival rate) and she looked confused. She said, no, a T(umor)2 and N(odes)1 meant a 2B. She looked through the pathology report and we talked about lymph nodes that are "matted," which can move a stage 2B to a 3A, but she said the pathology report showed no indication of this, so we're going to take that 2B with no further argument, thank you very much. All in all, given the TNM "score" combined with the fact that the tumor was "high grade" (i.e. aggressive), gives me a 75% survival rate. (But as my oncologist friend, Carla, reminds us, "these statistics refer to large numbers of people, not to individuals.")

After clarifying those details, Dr. Kuan let me know that the cancer center is doing a clinical test on Taxol infusions. If I sign up for the test, my chemotherapy would consist of 4 bi-weekly infusions of Doxorubicin (Adriamycin) and cyclophosphamide [abbreviated AC], and then either 12 weekly infusions or 6 bi-weekly infusions of paclitaxel (Taxol). The benefit of taking part in a clinical trial, of course, is that you have even more doctors watching your condition. So, despite the fact that weekly infusions would be a drag from the perspective of getting on with life, we are considering it.

We got to meet the nurse for Dr. Kuan's practice, Lisa Mune, who showed us how the "port" works for the chemo infusions. You can go here for an image of where the port goes. This port, which is surgically inserted under the skin, enables the nurses to give me my chemo meds and to draw blood without having to find a vein every other week. We're hoping that Dr. Broderick can put in the port when he's doing the recision to get more of the margins (still no word on when that will occur, yet).

But, if you look at the image, you'll note that meds go right into the vena cava, which leads right to the heart. So, to make sure my heart can handle all this (the Adriamycin, the "A" part of the AC, is hard on the heart) I'm having a heart scan (MUGA) on Thursday morning.

Whew. What a day.

On a positive note--I went camping this past weekend with the moms and daughters in Maggie's girl scout troop. There were four girls and four moms in Marin and it was lovely. I came home on Sunday utterly exhausted. But I'm figuring I won't be doing much of that kind of thing for at least the next six to nine months, and I wanted the Maggie time.

Houston, we have a "stage"

2007-09-07T09:40:00.001-07:00

My surgeon removed the drain today--yay! I had no idea how much it was irritating me. No, I mean, I know it was bugging me, but I didn't realize how much of the discomfort in my armpit was due to the little plastic tube up there. Now it's out and I feel better already. :-)

Bad(ish) news--the margins on the tumor were a bit close, so he wants to go back in and remove more of the edge around the existing "cavity" (where the tumor was). (The tumor was about 2.5 cm.) Since there definitely won't be lymph node involvement this time, it actually *will* be same day surgery. But, of course, we have to go through the approval process (again) first. So, everyone be thinking positive thoughts along the lines of "surgery next week, surgery next week, surgery next week".

And of the 18 lymph nodes they removed, 3 of them were positive.

This makes me T2 and N1 in the cancer staging. We're assuming (hopinghopinghoping) that the M (metastisis) is a 0. Hopefully the CT scan taken last week confirms this. I'll know more, I'm sure, when I meet with the oncologist on Monday.

The surgeon says they're staging this as a 3A. Not fantastic, but not end of the world, by any means. And, we're lucky enough to live in a nice metropolitan area, with access to extremely fine care.

Meanwhile, we continue to be touched by the genuine help and good thoughts we're continuously receiving. We can't thank folks enough. Please just know how much we do appreciate your thoughts and words.

Surgery? Check.

2007-08-31T09:21:00.000-07:00

To everyone who has been sending the positive energy and kind thoughts and words (and flowers and chocolates and tea and housecleaning and, the list just goes on and on....) thank you. We have felt your love most sincerely and we most sincerely appreciate it.

I got discharged a bit late today--it seems that my surgeon was assigned another case today and I'm thinking he assumed someone else from his office would see to my discharge, but, no such luck. So, after figuring I'd get to leave the lovely Summit hospital around 11 this morning, I actually got to walk out the doors around 4:30 p.m.

And sleep last night? Sheesh. You need sleep to heal, but heaven knows that the hospital is not the place to get sleep. Between being awakened to have my blood pressure checked every 4 hours, and my IV bag going empty and beeping at 3 a.m. and, well, oy vey, I got about 5 hours sleep last night. I'm sooooooo looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.

For the very brave of heart, there is clinical pre-op info down below, but don't feel compelled to read this. I only put it here for the gluttons for punishment (like myself).

I'll be checking in with my oncologist on Tuesday and the surgeon on Friday. The surgeon will need to put in a port for the chemo, but I'm sure that happens a bit closer to chemo, which will likely start in about 4 weeks (after we take Em off to Santa Barbara).

So, there won't really be much news until next week, and so we'll have a bit of a lull in these updates. Thank you again, so very very much, to everyone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here be the icky clinicial stuff........

So, we arrived at the Breast Health Center at the Summit "campus" and first up were the "wires". Guided by ultrasound, the very nice doctor (Dr. Kanter is an opera fan, so he and I had a very nice discussion and he heartily recommends I take in the Seattle Opera's ring cycle), inserted wires on either side of the so-called mass, to guide the surgeon. The wire insertion was preceded by local anesthetic, so it didn't hurt. But he had to wiggle the needle inside the breast to see it on the ultrasound, and I was a teensy bit concerned that the lidocaine would wear off before I got the general anesthesia for surgery. (It didn't <whew>)

Then off for a mammogram that showed the wires.

I had to get in a wheelchair and then in an ambulance to be taken the whole 4 blocks to the hospital. Arrived there around 9:30, got checked in to Same Day Surgery, and then wheeled down to Nuclear Medicine. Probably the worst part. They need to shoot isotopes into the breast to "highlight" the sentinel lymph node(s). Which means a needle under the nipple. This, too, was preceded by local anesthetic. But still? Something I'd prefer to avoid in the future.

Loaded with wires and isotopes, I was wheeled back to Same Day Surgery, where I met the kindly anesthesiologist, who checked to make sure I had no allergies, blah, blah, blah. I got wheeled over to surgery, they put something dopey into the IV and then put the mask over my face. I remember thinking, "oh, the mask is over my face" and then I woke up in recovery.

I felt fine until the nurse told me I would not be returning to Same Day Surgery, but would be spending the night because I knew that meant they found something in the lymph nodes. Damn, damn, and double damn.

I'm not experiencing much pain and I've been good about moving the left arm. I have a drain from the surgical wound, and will need to empty it for about 4 days. But all in all, this is not all that bad. Certainly easier than chemo will be. More on that after we get the pathology report and have my doctor's appointments next week.

From Frank

2007-08-30T09:19:00.000-07:00

Hi all friends and family and assorted loved ones. Karen is in the hospital tonight, so she asked me to post everyone about her status.

She is in good spirits and quite chipper after a rough day of surgery.

She has been pretty clinical and detailed, so in that vein, I'll do my best: After pre-op poking her with wires and injecting her with various unnatural substances starting at 7:45 a.m., she went into surgery at 12:00 noon, and was out a little before 3:00. They took out the tumor, and will be studying it for the next few days to gain confidence that they got all of it. They also took out her "sentinel lymph node" and tested it for cancer. It tested positive, so they had to go in and take out all her lymph nodes on that side. They will be testing them over the next several days to determine if they are cancerous. The prognosis will be influenced by the number of lymph nodes affected. Frankly, the oncologist has made it pretty clear that an aggressive treatment of chemotherapy is in Karen's future.

She's extremely brave and in good spirits. I have extended all of our love to her, and I know she appreciates the extraordinary kindness that has been shown, including notes, calls, flowers, dinners, cleaning, and checking in on the girls. Really amazing, and I know she feels very much loved. As she should.

Ming Kuan, Oncologist

2007-08-28T09:18:00.000-07:00

I met my medical oncologist today (that's the one who gets to prescribe the ickiest part of this whole process, the chemotherapy). Loved her. Dr. Ming Kuan answered all Frank's and my questions and even put us a bit at ease. (Invasive does not imply, as I had assumed, that the cancer had necessarily invaded something. The biopsy merely indicates that it has the capacity to do so. And, as we all keep saying, we'll know more after surgery. Which is less than two days away. Yay!)

Dr. Kuan ordered a CT scan just to ensure the cancer hasn't spread, and I get to do that tomorrow afternoon, after I meet with my radiation oncologist, Dr. Roig.

The nicest bit of all this news is that all my cancer doctors (except my surgeon) and nurses, etc. are all in one wonderful facility. I get to show up and they have all my info. My CT scan tomorrow? At the Comprehensive Cancer Center. My radiation oncologist? Same place. And when I go back to my medical oncologist next Tuesday, post-op? Yep, at the Cancer Center. Makes things *much* easier.

They gave me a lovely, helpful binder, with all sorts of info in it. And it has tabs for things like phone numbers, and medication lists, and lab results. Which is great. Because my little folder was beginning to show the signs of wear & tear from too much paper and from being carted around.

So. On to the CT scan and meeting my other doctor, and then, *finally*, surgery on Thursday.

Oh, and, I've shared this link with a few folks, but I've really enjoyed this woman's blog from when she had cancer last year, so I thought I'd share it with everyone: http://www.alixnorth.com/navigational-chart-breast-cancer-patients.

Green Light: Surgery

2007-08-24T09:17:00.000-07:00

Yay! After all the rigemarole of approvals and schedules, we have a surgery date.

Next Thursday, August 30, at 7:45 a.m., I'll check in to Summit West (in Oakland) where they'll begin the prep work (inserting a wire), then I'll move on to Summit North, where they'll do more prep work. Then on to the nuclear facility (I'm not even kidding, that's what she called it) for yet another wire. From there, it's on to the OR. Sheesh.

Assuming it's only a lumpectomy, I should be done by 3 p.m. and home that afternoon. If they have to take out the lymph nodes, well, then, I get to spend the night in the lovely hospital and go home on Friday morning.

I'm meeting my oncologist and radiologist this Tuesday and Wednesday, respectively, to fill out paperwork and do the pre-consults. After the surgery, I have been told it takes about a week for the full pathology report to have been digested such that my chemo/radiation treatment can be determined and begun.

And that's when the real fun begins. ;-)

The Waiting Game

2007-08-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

Well, now we're just waiting. And rather than have people fret and wonder what the heck is going on, I'll just give you the situation, as we currently know it.

We got the pathology report last Thursday just before meeting with the surgeon. Technically, all we know so far is that I have "invasive DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ)". It appears that there is lymphatic and/or vascular invasion. But they can't know anything for certain until I have a lumpectomy. Which will happen as soon as we can get approved. Which will happen in five to ten business days. Argh! Insurance: blessing or curse?

Anyway. We're probably looking at surgery next week, sometime.

The surgeon is on the young side (Frank might prefer it if he wasn't so handsome. Me? I'm wondering if he's too old for Emily....) But very capable and Frank and I both felt assured and confident in his abilities.

During surgery, they'll check out the lymph nodes. If they look bad, they'll remove them at the same time as the lump. Afterward, they'll test the margins of what they've removed, to ensure they got everything.

But meanwhile? We just wait.

I'll email again when we've got a date for surgery.

(Also, please feel free to forward this to whomever you like. If I've missed anyone, my sincerest apologies.)

The Journey Begins

2007-08-14T09:14:00.000-07:00

So, my doctor thought it was a cyst, but the ultrasound and mammogram indicated otherwise. A biopsy taken Friday revealed that it is, indeed, breast cancer.

That's really all I know right now. I have a surgery consult on Thursday and my doctor should have more information on exactly what kind of cancer we're looking at, on Friday. And can I just say this sucks?

I'm sending an email because I'm annoyingly weepy right now. I'm at work because, really, what would I do if I stayed home? So, there it is.

I'll let folks know more as I know it.