BC Becky

Never thought I'd want to be a breast cancer survivor

Tag: Health information

  • Breast cancer prevention

    It is with mixed feelings that I read about breast cancer prevention. It is not that I want anyone to get breast cancer, I would not wish that on anyone. It is just that when I read about prevention, I enter that world of regret. I start running through the if onlys…

    …if only I had thrown out the water bottles with BPA sooner
    …if only I ate less red meat
    …if only I ate less sugar

    In general, I’m very good at not regretting the past. There is nothing I can do about it now, so no point in dwelling on it right?

    But still, when I hear of a charity that focuses on breast cancer prevention, I’m filled with both regret and doubt (can we really prevent breast cancer?).

    One charity that works to help prevent breast cancer by providing public advocacy and education campaigns based upon scientific evidence (not personal opinion – there are way too many personal anecdotes about what causes cancer!) is the Breast Cancer Fund.

    On October 11 (Canadian Thanksgiving Weekend), Scott and I will be doing a day hike that is a fundraiser for the Breast Cancer Fund. It is a good chance for us to meet some new people (we’ve joined a team captained by a friend-of-a-friend) while going on a hike up Mount Tam in Marin County (just north of San Francisco). It is an area that we haven’t yet explored, so that too should be fun. Mostly, it is a great excuse to get out, and help me get motivated to train for my walk down Mount Haleakalā in December. As this is a fundraiser walk, we could use a little help with fundraising …

    To support Scott’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/scottd

    To support Becky’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/rhogue

  • Persistence, Tenacity, and New Blood

    Persistence, Tenacity, and New Blood

    This cancer journey reminds me of some aspects of our Going East bike trip – particularly during those times when persistence and tenacity are what you need to make it over that one last hill. I always thought this picture from our trip made a great motivational photo (Scott pushes the loaded recumbent bike up the mountain – you can see the sweat on his back – unfortunately the picture does not do the steepness of the hill justice). The locals thought we were crazy trying to bike over this mountain pass – but we were both persistent and tenacious and we made it!

    OK, this is steep

    Perhaps this is a better persistence picture (also in northern Thailand):

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    My point here, is this is how I feel when I’m feeling fatigued. I feel like the entire road is uphill. And although these pictures show a struggle, they also bring a smile to my face. They remind me of challenges that I have overcome. They provide me with that little extra reminder, that yes, I can do this.

    Yesterday, I had my first transfusion. The AC chemo was knocking out my red blood cells (RBC), and they were not being given enough of a chance to bounce back between rounds. Folks have asked about drugs to help with RBC. Apparently the drugs take a long time (6-8 weeks) to boost production, and the side effects can be worse than the side effects of a transfusion. Given the more immediate need for a boost now, it made sense. And so, I had my AC chemo on Monday and a transfusion of two units of RBC on Tuesday. I cannot say I immediately feel better – but then the AC chemo knocks me down for a few days, so it is hard to say. What I can say is that I have more colour – my cheeks are pinker and my lips have natural colour again. I had not really realized how pale I was before the transfusion.

    Unfortunately, my phone doesn’t take very good photos.

    Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug

    We were also serenaded by the harp during treatment, which was nice. Apparently, med students who are also musicians volunteer to play in the cancer center. This is the first time we’ve seen the harpist directly in the infusion treatment area.

    The volunteers at the hospital make the nice head scarfs/hats. I discovered that it works well when the tie is on the side – kinda makes me think I should learn to read tarot cards.

     

    So, now I have some new blood. I am still feeling some fatigue, but hopefully in the next day or two I’ll bounce back :-).

  • The transformative power of a bike ride

    One of the hardest things I’ve done lately, was to get out of bed after my afternoon nap, and get on my bike. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the energy for it – I did. I’m in a strong phase right now. It was that I was sad. And not the type of sad that happens when I have a needed breakdown, but the kind of sad that looks a lot like depression – and that scares me.

    So, I dragged my ass out of bed and had a bowl of ice cream. I’m allowed comfort foods whenever I want them! And when you are sad, they help a little … plus I knew I would need the energy, cause if I was going to get off my ass and go for a bike ride I needed to ensure my body was fueled before I left.

    So, I did it. I got changed and hopped on my road bike. For the first half hour of riding, I cried. My nose ran – most annoying side effect of chemo hair loss is that you lose the hair in your nose so your nose runs a lot sooner when you cry. I allowed myself to cry. I contemplated anti-depressant medication. I know that at some point I will probably need it, but I want to avoid it if I can. There are side effects to that as well.

    About a half hour into my ride something changed – the endorphins kicked in – I suddenly started to see the beauty around me. I stopped to take this picture as the bird seem to be posing just for me.

    2014-07-30 19.10.26 HDRThe bike ride transformed me – from sad-Becky back into warrior-Becky. For the remainder of the ride I worked out the important arguments in a letter to the Editor for the New York Times relating to my recent blog post on bilateral mastectomies, that I plan to write (hopefully later this evening). Thank-you for those who have encouraged me to write something more formal.

    I cannot say that I am no longer sad – I am just not dysfunctionally sad. I’ve moved past that part and can now start to pull my thoughts back together into actions. I hope to get out for another ride first thing tomorrow morning before it gets hot and sunny (since I cannot swim tomorrow due to low blood counts).

  • Breast cancer pet peeve – it is not a “lump” (public service announcement)

    My breast cancer pet peeve of the day is the word “lump” … cause, well, it doesn’t FEEL like a lump! The word lump actually is misleading and causes too many women to NOT get something checked out. It is part of why I waited a week (fortunately, I only waited a week).

    So, first and foremost – get to know YOUR breasts. I checked mine every time I got in the shower. I suds up with soap and feel around and inspect. I also look at myself in the mirror and look down when I dry myself off. So, when something changed, I noticed!

    Many women have lumpy breasts. Some of the normal tissue in your breast feels lumpy. It isn’t the normal lumpiness that is the problem – it is the change that is problem. The first I heard of nipple retraction was AFTER I was diagnosed. What I noticed was a hard spot – an area that felt firmer than normal – which I initially associated with what I thought might be a muscle strain, but when it didn’t away I got it checked out.

    Screen Shot 2014-07-20 at 12.54.15

     

    Above is a MRI image of my left breast. It shows the two masses. The upper is a known malignancy – this is the one I felt and it is my largest mass (depending on the scan measuring somewhere between 3 and 4.7 cm in its widest dimension – MRI measured it smaller than ultrasound but they won’t really know until they take it out and do a full biopsy on it). It is not a regular shape – it is not this nice round “lump” – rather it is an irregularly shaped mass (it doesn’t look 3 cm in this angle, they measure it in three dimensions based upon the largest size). The bottom mass shows up on MRI only (I’m getting it biopsied tomorrow) – it is suspected to be cancer only because I already have a known malignancy. The point I wanted to make on this picture was the irregular shape of my breast. I can visually see when I look in the mirror, while looking down that my left breast isn’t smoothly curved. This is a sign that something is WRONG!

    BTW –  I think it is way cool that I can just sign a form and they mail me CDs with all the images from scans that have been taken. I find the MRI images particularly interesting. I get a full copy of the radiologist’s report, so I know which images are most interesting (there are 15,000 images from a standard diagnostic MRI).

    So, if you don’t do annual mammograms (and even if you do), it doesn’t hurt to just ‘cop a feel’ and check out your breast EVERY time you hop in the shower …

    OK… done with the public service announcement for the day. Time for a bike ride!

  • Humour in the moment – which boobs should I wear?

    In this moment, we (Scott and I) often find ourselves laughing at things that are rather absurd, but real none-the-less. I recognize it clearly as a coping mechanism, and something that is definitely needed. But I’m also aware of how easily something funny can turn into something not funny.

    I recall back in my undergrad days, one of my friends had cancer. She had cancer before I knew her, and had a re-occurrence. I did not know her well, but well enough that I remember her clearly. Last I had heard she had two beautiful children and was doing well. I mention her because of a particular story. At her wedding shower (she had recently been diagnosed with the re-occurrence), we were laughing about this or that, and for some reason the jokes turned to wigs. There was laughing at first, but then a sudden transition to tears. This is what I’m aware of every time I laugh about something. I’m aware that at any moment that laugh will turn to a cry.

    Today’s laugh was about prosthetic breasts. I never even occurred to me that one would make special prosthetic breasts for swimming. They even make aerodynamic (or I guess aquadynamic) prosthetic breasts. Who knew? I was reminded of Aimee Mullins TED talk about her 12 pairs of legs. She talks about how having various legs allows her to be different heights. She talks about legs as things that allow her to specialize her superpowers (when she wants to run fast, she has special legs for that). So that got me thinking about fake boobs. You see, if I don’t opt for reconstruction, and if I end up with cancer in both then I too could have multiple sets of prosthetics for multiple purposes. I could have bigger boobs to fill out my favourite shirt, or smaller ones when I want to appear more professional. Then of course, it occurs to me, that people who saw me regularly would find it rather odd that my chest size kept changing, and how would you go clothes shopping? Which boobs would you wear? And if I were to get into competitive swimming, would the boobs I choose to wear affect how fast I swim? Would that be considered cheating?

    In all seriousness, I am thankful that the surgeon highlighted that a mastectomy is a real possibly. Not that I want one (the whole idea scares the crap out of me), but that I have a little more time to mentally prepare for it. When the diagnosis is in, and the treatment options are presented, I will be better prepared to make a decision. I at least will have had a chance to explore the options. It never would have occurred to me to search the Internet for breast prosthetics. My fear of being ‘lopsided’ does have some solutions – but frankly, given that I hate wearing bras, I’m still dealing with choosing between two bad options. Reconstruction means more surgery, more complicated surgery, and more healing time. No reconstruction means a life of prosthetics (at least for formal settings).

    On a related note, Scott and I went for a walk around Sausalito on Saturday. I notice that I was looking at other women’s breasts. I had never really taken notice of other women’s breast before – but now, I find myself drawn to them. I am looking. I’m not even sure what I’m thinking when I’m looking, but I am certainly finding myself drawn to look. It is all very odd. Perhaps I’m admiring? Perhaps window shopping? Who knows.

  • It all started …

    … with denial. I felt something. Could it be what I was feeling was just a muscle strain. Surely if I waited a couple of days it would go away.

    Breast cancer was never something I thought that I would ever have to deal with. I know of no relatives with breast cancer – well, that is not completely true – my cousin was diagnosed with breast cancer at about my age, and she passed away about a year and a half later. But, she had breast cancer on the side of the family that I was not related to by blood, there were additional circumstances that led to her diagnosis – it did not apply to me – I was still safe.

    One reality is that the major of women who get breast cancer do not have relatives with cancer. I am now part of that statistic – or at least, my part in that statistic will be positively confirmed by Wednesday. I wonder, how it possible that majority of women who get breast cancer do not have relatives with cancer? If one in eight women get breast cancer, then I cannot see how those numbers add up. I am definitely going to have to do some more research into this.

    So, my approach to this new challenge in life is to look at it as an academic. Why not? It gives me a perspective and a way to focus. I shall look at this blog as a journal into lived experience. Combining the medical jargon with the lived-experience of someone with breast cancer. I shall be negotiating how this new identity of mine changes who I am as a open academic.

    So, today my goal in life changes. Today, I can now say that I want to be identified as a breast cancer survivor, as the alternative doesn’t look so grand!

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