Another Milestone

Hi Team,

I was going to try to just fly on by, but my introspective nature has once again stopped me in my tracks.  I get my port out tomorrow!  A few fun flashbacks for you.  I remember when my oncologist told me I'd be starting chemotherapy and I might want to consider a port.  I thought to myself (internally) 'that's not necessary.'  My chemo is going to be quick and I will be done before I know it.  Fast forward an f-ing week to me checked into the kaiser hospital taking half a liter of blood every 12 hours and stabbing me in every possible corner trying to find a good vein.  I felt like a pin cushion!  I was so happy to get discharged and once my white blood cells were high enough my first order of business was to get a port. 

Going in to get a port was the first time I'd been checked in to an actual hospital.  The nurse put an IV in me, then Dr. Fisch asked me to sign a form that said I had "informed consent" about this surgery - although he proceeded to inform me that he didn't really believe in informed consent.  To which I didn't ask any further questions because I wasn't sure I wanted to know.  This in retrospect was the first bad sign.  Then the nurse proceeded to ask me if I have an advance directive.  Ie. A legal document that tells people what to do with you if you either become a vegetable or die.  Let me tell you, if you DON'T have an advance directive, or like me, didn't have any clue what that was, it is not reassuring to be asked that 2 minutes before they put some serious drugs in you and start cutting.  That said, they drugged me up with a great drung called versed which is supposed to be an anti-anxiety and amnesia-enducing drug.  Unfortunately, I remember.  As the dr. first cut into me, I could feel it, and I cried.  And I remember the nurses gathering around and giving me another few doses of versed, probably enough to sedate a grizzly bear, and me dozing off into a weird state of semi-consciousness.  I woke up as I was getting moved off the operating table, and told them, Thank you for fixing that - that was really bad at first but you did a good job.  They said, I'm glad  you remember it that way.

Fast forward to about a month ago in Dr. Langer's office, my surgeon, I was there for a check up and she says - now that you're done with all your IV treatment, you can get your port out.  Just schedule a regular appointment in my office and I'll take it out.  Now, please note that a port is a small peice of metal and silicone in my chest with a tube going into my jugular vein for administering IV medication.

I said to Dr. Langer.  "Ok, uhm, just in your office?  I don't need to go to the hospital?" She says - no, it will be fine we'll just do it here.  To which I say, ok here is what I'm envisioning, you tell me what you think.  Dr. cuts open my chest and pulls my port out of my jugular vein and my neck goes spurting blood all over the doctor's office, Kill Bill style.  She said, don't worry - that's not going to happen.  Your body will clot it, and plus, you've been through far worse.  Famous not-encouraging words.  Although I guess I appreciate the effort.

Anyway, tomorrow is another milestone.  I'm excited and scared.  It's amazing to me that even after everything I've been through, I am still scared of something relatively little like this - and that I somehow think I am just going to take a bus there, 2 valium to get through, and a cab home.  Thank God for my friends that call me out on my bullshit and make me ask for support.  You would think by now it would come more naturally!  Either way, its exciting stuff because it's one more step to putting all this behind me.

Love,
Amy

Fun and Morbidity

Hi Team -

I did like the idea of just ending this chapter of my life and 'riding off into the sunset' with my happy ending, but let's be honest.  You can't just decide a chapter is done and that's it.  There's so much more to tell!  So I decided to keep sharing. 

For the last few months I've been throwing myself into my new job, working hard and playing hard.  I love my new team and my new company (and I'm not just saying that because they might read this) although I do miss the people I used to work with, it has really done wonders for my mind to be in this new job.  I actually thought last year that maybe chemo had just killed a bunch of brain cells and I just didn't have the capacity to be as sharp as I was before... this new job has forced me to wake up, pay attention and learn something new. And, I'm doing it!  It feels great to have a mental accomplishment when I felt so dried up mentally for so long. It still takes me longer to think of people's names and brain farts come more often than they used to, but maybe I can just blame that on getting older.

 




 Back in October 2010, the month after my bilateral mastectomy, after my ex-boyfriend had just broken up with me, and I was still bald and feeling not very feminine or happy, I decided to book myself a trip to Costa Rica to have something to look forward to.  Well, in May, I went - to Costa Rica and Panama.  My mom went with me to Panama and 3 of my closest friends went with me to Costa Rica. 

Some highlights:
- 'Alitos de Bufalo' on a restaurant menu is not some fancy buffalo dish, but rather buffalo wings (ie. chicken)
- When teaching a first time surfer (me) how to stand up on a surf board, the high-pressure "GO! NOW!, Don't Wait When I say GO" does not actually work

- Apparently Panama has the world's best coffee, I did not hear about this growing up in Kona (also the world's best coffee)

- Marriage ritual for Kuna Indians:  The man goes running off hiding in the town and his friends find him and drag him kicking and screaming into the woman's house where they have the marriage ceremony and he then assimilates into her family.  How realistic of them. 

- Crabs are only cute when there are only a few of them on the porch, not hundreds covering the street when you are trying to walk home









Another experience on my recent trip made me very aware of a new world view I seem to be developing in a strong way.  It's slightly morbid, but in my opinion, realistic.  It doesn't depress me, but rather motivates me!  Mom and I were flying from Panama City to the San Blas Archeapelago and we got on a plane that had 8 seats at the most - Mom says "We all get window seats!"  It was a little plane and a bumpy ride, and I thought to myself, 'hmmm I wonder if this is how I die.'  Not in the scared way of 'ohmygod I'm going to die' but more like, well, I'm going to die at some point - it wasn't in 2010 from breast cancer, I wonder if it's in 2011 from a plane crash.  Well, it wasn't (so far).  I guess it's more the discovery of the concept that it is inevitable and could be at any time - we envision growing old with our families and eventually dying in a hospital bed with your children, grandchildren, etc all there holding your hand.  I don't think that's how it goes for most people.  My uncle died suddenly while scuba diving.  My best friend in college died suddenly in a car accident.  My great grandmother lived to be 102 (I think, I kind of lost track at one point) - A different uncle was telling me recently that his daughter is turning 30 and freaking out about it.   My immediate response, just popped out of my mouth before I could sensor it (although I don't think I would have anyway), was "She should be glad she made it that far." 

Anyway, my point is, you never know, but that can be a positive motivating thing.  I now get in my car and think almost every time, I am more likely to die in a car accident than of breast cancer.  It's oddly empowering to me to be able to think these things and not be afraid of them.  It allows me, for example, to not feel bad for opening a good bottle of wine just to have a glass by myself with dinner.  Or push myself until I feel like throwing up at my spin class - because why not.  Knowing that a beach is the #4 most shark infested beach in the world (Beach at Bolinas, thank you Dave for the jeapordy fact), does not make me want to get out of the water.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not reckless.  I went through chemo and fought for my life, I didn't do all that for nothing - I do highly value my time, but I am also weirdly/acutely aware that this time is limited.  I hope I keep that sense for a very long time.  I enjoy it. 

Love,

Amy

Choose your own adventure: Ride off into the sunset or turn back to fight the dragon?

Hi Team,

A year ago today, I walked into the radiologist's office at Kaiser to get an ultrasound on a lump I had felt in my breast. I ended up first getting an ultrasound, then getting an uncomfortable twisty-face look (which I now recognize as the you've got cancer look) and a core needle biopsy all in the same appointment. I had walked in thinking I probably had some little cyst from changing my birth control. I very clearly remember after the ultrasound, weird look, and biopsy, then getting my first mammogram and being sat down in the radiologists office as she explained to me what she saw on my mammogram.

She said, I can't tell you for sure until I get the results of the biopsy back. But, based on my experience, all these little white dots we see around your lump area are called micro-calcifications and they are a telltale sign of something really bad. She wouldn't use the C word with me. So I said it, 'so you think it's cancer?' she said - well, yes based on my experience, I would guess that's highly likely. What we see here are the signs of cancer cells dying off. I don't have a for sure answer for you, but it's most likely the case and I want you to prepare yourself for that news.

I walked out of the office stunned and still believing she was wrong. I took a deep breath and repeated the words I had just heard, even though they hadn't really processed for myself yet, to my friend Monika, then to my Mom, then to my (now ex) boyfriend. I was numb.

It was not until the next morning, 4/2/2010, as I was in the SFO airport around 11am with a bloody mary and chicken sandwich, on my way to a weekend in Vegas with the (now ex) boyfriend for our 3 year anniversary, that I got the call. I remember trying to furiously take notes as she said words that sounded like a foreign language to me, but certainly were not good. She said, you've got cancer and not just in one spot, but it's invasive, meaning it's spread from it's original place. You'll have to come in for more scans over the next week so we can determine how far it's spread and what your next course of action will be. You will definitely have to do some sort of surgery. You will probably have to do chemotherapy. And you may also have to do radiation.

After I got off the phone, I just sat there. I pushed my sandwich away and pulled my bloody mary close to me, putting the the straw in my mouth, and downed it in between sobs. I let tears stream down my face right in the airport restaurant. I was totally oblivious to the outside world and felt scared and alone. I called my mom and boyfriend again and choked out the words again, and asked them to start telling people so I didn't have to tell everyone myself.

I left the restaurant and sat down with my computer and started typing out all my thoughts. I started two different files, entitled "My Fears" and "My questions" - the questions mostly were medical in nature and answered with a lot of research and asking questions to the doctors. The fears are a lot more complex. They mostly all came true. I had to tell everyone, I had to do chemo, I had to take time off work, I had to figure out a way to make it all work financially, my boyfriend did end up leaving me at the time I most needed him. There were a few that didn't come true, but in that one instant in time, I was terrified of it all, and for good reason. I still am terrified for that girl sitting in the SFO gate area, not knowing what comes next. Blissful ignorance swept out from under me like a dirty rug.

Over the last year, I've learned a lot about breast cancer, learned a lot about friendships and relationships. I've built an incredibly strong bond with my family and friends, and had some really fun evenings just sitting and talking, even though I felt shitty, those memories are incredibly close to my heart. I've done chemo, gotten past my fear of needles and blood, got my boobs cut off and gotten new ones. I've lost all my hair, but had it grow back, and lost a relationship, but gained an incredible new career and job. Karma is finally repaying a few of the debts from the past year, and I have an exciting fresh start. For a long time I found it hard to genuinely smile, and sometimes I still do. When you are constantly thinking about really hard stuff, and really tragic decisions, and it faces you in the mirror every day, it becomes really hard to joke around and be whimsical. Finally I have started having days that are only few and far between where I have to think about my survival or feeling or looking really shitty. I have started laughing again in a genuine way. It didn't feel natural at first, and maybe only over the last week or so has it started coming back more easily. But it's there, and knowing that is the first step in my having faith that it can become the norm again.

I'm going to end my story while we're on a happy ending. Because I like happy endings. And I know life has a way of cycling through extreme happiness and extreme sadness. And they both come back around. That may sound kind of morbid, but it depends on what kind of a person you are. As I look at the glass half full, I see it as realistic. Yes shitty stuff happens, and you know it will, and you have to face it head on and deal with it. But you also know that when it does happen, that means you're that much closer to the good stuff happening again. And while you're in the middle of the good stuff, just make sure you appreciate it, make sure the people you love know it, and be kind to other human beings because you don't know where they are in their cycle.

Love,

Amy

A Turn for the Better (Finally!)

Hi Team,

I didn't intend to keep this blog going forever, as it's a chapter in my life that I hope to close sooner rather than later. That said, I've had some fun and positive developments in my life lately, and as I come closer to a year since my breast cancer diagnosis, I'm hoping to end this on a more positive note.

So, my expansion is done, I have new boobs! Well, so the entire process is not completely done, I will still have to have another surgery at some point in the future to switch out my temporary implants for more permenant, softer/more realistic ones. It's so weird, they look great (in my humble opinion), and you would never know that they aren't real just from looking, but the minute you touch them, they are solid as a rock and immoveable. That will change with the final implants though. Granted I still no longer have nipples or any sensation of touch over most of my chest, but at least I can pretend most of the time and nobody will know the difference!

In other news, you may remember me mentioning that about 70% of women who go through the chemotheraphy that I went through go through menopause, it kills the ovaries, and you're done with the baby-making. Not that I want to have children now, but I definitely wanted the option to choose... well, a few weeks ago... I started a period! I went through all the menopause symptoms and hadn't had a period for over a year, but this is a really good sign that things are starting to work in there again, the body is normalizing. Now, I don't want to be overly confident, this does not mean that for sure I'm in the clear, but it's a really good sign toward the positive.

Another fun development that I never would have guessed would come my way this year is that I got a new job working for Google! I will be an account manager for Adwords, thier search advertising team, working in Media and Entertainment, calling on Video Game publishing companies. A lot of people have been really surprised at my willingness to make a move so quickly away from Walmart where I actually did have a great gig as a buyer, but Google is probably one of only about 2-3 companies that could have lured me away. And everything happened as if it was just meant to be. Last year my friend who works there forwarded me a job rec that involved travel (travel is one of my biggest passions in life) and I thought, sure! And forwarded her my resume. I didn't hear anything back, and I didn't really think much of it until I got a call from a recruiter in late December, saying they had a great opportunity for me if I was interested. There is a lot of really good press talking about what a great company Google is to work for, so I decided to explore my opportunities, be open to a new direction in life. Or at least see what all the hype is about :) I went down to Mountain View for an afternoon to interview, and I felt right at home. The people were fun and nice, the environment seemed to be productive and comfortable, with lots of nice amentities. I clicked really well with the team, and a few weeks later I had an offer! Everything just seemed to click and line up perfectly, so I decided it was time for a positive change in my life. There are so many times in life where you are handed a really shitty situation and you have to make the best of it, that when you are handed a really awesome situation, sometimes it's hard to recognize or make sense of it right away. I feel like that's what happened here, obviously not without a little work on my part, but it all happened just the way it was supposed to, so I decided it is the right path for me to start new.

If you need any convincing as to the awesomeness of working for Google, here are a few articles for your perusal:

Fortune 100 Best Companies to Work For (Google #4 for 2011)
The Overview of Working at Google

So anyway, as you can tell I'm excited, and happy for a really positive change in my life. I'm excited to be in an environment where ideas and excitement are encouraged and enabled to become reality. Although I can't quite see around the corner yet, I have a feeling this is going to open up some really exciting possibilities for what the future holds.

Soon, I'll be having my 1 year anniversary of my diagnosis, so look for another post about my year in retrospect. I'm thinking that will be a good time to close this book and hopefully move on to a more fun and happy 2011 and beyond.

Love,
Amy

New Year's Resolutions

Hi Team,

Long time no talk. I came back last week from a wonderful, restorative 2 and a half weeks in Kona at home. Amazing what the slow pace, sun and family do to restore my sense of me and feeling comfortable in my body again. It's interesting but I've found that it's easier to bring my mind back into my body at home.

Basically to recap, I went to the beach every day, had lots of fun hanging out with family and caught up with some long lost friends. I read a lot, and practiced meditating - it's a work in progress. Progress helped by the book my therapist recommended to me - Full Catastrophe Living (by John Kabat-Zinn). I am practicing making my mind still, bringing myself back into my present moment and not focusing so much on reliving my past, or worrying about my hypothetical future, but just being in my current moment. It's surprisingly hard.



My birthday came and went with some celebration, but mostly on my part, with happiness that it's over. I realize it's just the next day in a series of days, but it feels to me like a chapter (which I was looking forward to the end of) is over. It's still not easy, but every day I get further away from my diagnosis, further from the freshness of the memory of what it's like to be going through chemo, further from the realization that I was getting my boobs cut off, and further from that feeling of not recognizing myself. Every day I get more aquainted with my new self, what I look like now, even though still a work in progress. I don't look so sick to myself when I look in the mirror, and it's easier to smile genuinely. There was a point in time when I remembered who I was before I went through chemo.



It's hard to remember that I had a life, was happy and knew myself and what I stood for. I got so distracted with doing what I needed to do to save my life, that once I didn't have to do it anymore, I didn't know what to do with myself. Like a deer in headlights, still frozen in the middle of the road, not knowing what to do next. In my journal on my way home to Hawaii I decided to start chronicling my year, to put it down on paper and start letting go of it. I started to write about my diagnosis in April and realized, wait, that is not the beginning of the year. So I went back to Jan/Feb and realized what an amazing year I had also. I got to travel to 3 new countries, experience new cultures and do some really amazing things. Then I got to thinking about who I was then - what were the things that I stood for and held true to myself. I was self-confident and happy, loved myself and held my rule of #1 treating others with compassion and acceptance and #2 to leave no rock unturned, life is short, so live it. I knew that even before I was diagnosed, and I wasn't afraid to go out and do it. My cancer diagnosis made me more afraid. I know none of us are going to get out of here alive, but my self-confidence must have been stored in my breasts or went out along with my white blood cells during chemo. But - the great thing is, I am still that person. I just forgot about it in my all-consuming fight for my life. I actually really like who I am and how I approach life. I forgot about all that when I didn't have the chance to think about it.



So, to get to the subject of my post - my new year's resolution. Is to be me. Exactly who I am today, in this moment. It's mostly the same person I have been, with a few improvements, and a slightly altered world view, but still not taking life for granted, and treating as many people as I can with love and acceptance.



Also - an updated picture so you all can see my progress on the hair-growing front - slowly but surely it comes back!





Happy New Year!

Amy

Slowly but Surely

Hi Team,

I don't think I realized coming out of chemo and surgery how hard it would be to transition into a "normal" life again. To get up, go to work, care about things other than my health, and start to get used to my new body and world-view. It's not physically hard - I have started going back to the gym, even hired a trainer to help get me back in shape - and am finally getting my energy levels back. I went to a spin class this week and for the first time since last year, got a good hard hour of intense cardio where I was dripping sweat and it felt fantastic. Being back in life is really emotionally exhausting and hard.

I always look at my life in calendar years since my birthday is on New Years Eve - the calendar year of 2010 is the year I was 28. During New Year's last year, my ex-boyfriend's family had a big new years and birthday-party in Mexico with us and if you had asked me then what I'd be doing this year I would have told you two things: Going on my trip to Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand, then maybe moving down to Southern California to be with Anthony and start our life together. That was my plan, although I know it probably would have taken a while. I feel like everything I knew and thought, any sense of control over my life, got pulled out from under me. I went on my (amazing!) trip to SE Asia, but when I got back, I was thrown into a whirlwind of the shock of diagnosis and survival mode. Apparently I am great at performing under pressure - I survived and managed to make pretty good decisions through my treatment, with a lot of good help and support. But now things in my life are quiet again, and I feel like I'm standing on a battlefield with the ruins of my plans and life strewn around me, I'm still alive, but my relationship, my body, my plan for what to do next, was blown to shreds by my fight with cancer. I don't have to fight anymore, but it feels just as chatoic and totally out of my control.

I am not in the before cancer stage of my life, but I'm not in my after cancer stage either. I don't really know what my exact role at work is going to end up being (but thank God for having a job and health insurance), my wonderful stable relationship was apparently not as stable as I thought and is now gone, I am trying to get used to my new body but even that is still a work in progress (reconstruction still in progress) and I still haven't gotten my period back, so who knows if I'll ever be able to have kids or not - just so much still unknown.

I feel like I'm standing here on the battlefield, quiet and peaceful now looking at all the ruins and totally lost as to what to do next. And I have this looming feeling thinking about what I want to accomplish when I turn 29 - calender year of 2011 - I have a hard time even thinking about it. First, it seems like way too much work to pick up all the peices and start fresh. I don't have that much emotional energy. I'm tired. And, when I try to get up some energy to plan something or think about what I want to do, I have this ever-looming sensation of "YOU NEVER KNOW." Hard to think about what to do next when you have a sense of total lack of control over your life.

So anyway, I've been spending a lot of time at the gym lately, mostly because I know what to do there, I have a little bit of control over my life and body when I'm exercising, and it helps me feel positive. I'm also looking forward to a wonderful 2 and a half weeks home in Kona for Christmas. This will be the first time in a long time to be home and see my parents and one of us is not sick. In the last two years we've had my dad's trip to the emergency room to get a stint put in the artery leading to his heart (SF 2008), then his lung cancer diagnosis (laster in Kona 2008), his surgery and chemo (Nov '08-Mar '09), then my diagnosis in April of '10... visits with the family over the last years have been hard and traumatic. I'm really looking forward to a trip home that is easier and happy/more peaceful (but you never know).

I hope everyone's holiday season is happy and peaceful. More updates soon.

Love,
Amy

Happy Thanksgiving

Hi Team,

I've started thinking about Thanksgiving already and usually when I think Thanksgiving, I think turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and lots of pie. Oh and football, and feeling so tired I go to bed at 8pm. But this year I feel compelled to take a minute out of my crazy life and not think about food or how many video games we're going to sell at work for a minute and actually be thankful.

I have a hard time putting into words what I am thankful for because it seems so trite and insignificant compared to how intensely I feel. I guess it can be summed up though. I am so grateful to be alive, to have people in my life who love and support me (yes that's you), be able to worry about insignificant stuff at work (ie. worrying about how many video games we're going to sell rather than worrying about whether I should cut off both boobs or just the cancerous one), and not have to struggle every day to get by. I wake up in the morning now and I am not in pain, I have a bed to sleep in, a job to make a living, a pretty fun work environment, a wonderful network of friends and family that loves me and supports me in any and every way possible despite great distance. I totalled up only part of my healthcare costs (the chemo treatment and drugs, blood work, etc, nevermind surgeries or hospitalizations) and just that part would have been more than $380k without health insurance. I am incredibly grateful for my good doctors and health insurance to be able to afford the treatment I got. I don't know how I got to be so lucky.

There is a lot more I want in life - I want to travel the world and see more new cultures and beautiful places. This helps me be reminded that there is more to life than just the little wheel I run in every day, and that in the grand scheme of things, the little stuff just doesn't matter. I want to have a family and a supportive man in my life. I have to just have faith that with some trial and error, as long as I keep learning from my experiences, this will happen and the right person will come along. And if they don't, I will still be able to find happiness. I am very fortunate for my job, but I want to be compensated for something I truely feel passionate about. But I have to be patient, learning from the job I have and making sure that I take opportunities as they come up and follow my intuition.

Anyone else want to chime in with what they are thankful for this year?

Best,
Amy

A New Normal

Hi Team,

I haven't posted for a while because - great news - there really hasn't been any news! I keep saying to my friends that I just want my life to be boring for a while. I have had too much drama, too many hard times this year, I just want to laugh, enjoy myself, and protect myself from any more negativity at least until next year. Of course nobody ever wishes hard times on themselves, but I have reached my cap for this year, so it's official - for the rest of the year my life is going to be boring, drama-free and happy.

In that vein, for the last two weeks, my life has pretty much consisted of waking up around 7am for work, having a cup of coffee and a shower, some oatmeal or cereal - going to work around 8:30 until around 5:30 (and getting out of work always by 6pm at the latest), then either coming home and watching a few hours of tv or going to the gym or going to the therapist, and going to sleep. Rinse and repeat. It's been tiring even with that little routine since going back to work has taken a lot of energy - but it's been wonderful. It has been a lot more alone time than I'm used to, but I've realized that more alone time doesn't mean that my friends aren't there for me just as much as they always have been. It has been a concerted effort to make sure I manage my energy, and don't over-plan my life. I'm sure I'll go back to a fairly busy schedule, but for now it's been perfect.

That said, I did make a quick trip down to LA for this past weekend to visit with my family friend Polly and see all the Orange County/LA friends whom I haven't seen is ages. Way too long! They've had beautiful babies and exciting stories and they showed me so much love and welcoming that I was once again overwhelmed with a feeling of joy and gratitude for my life and the people in my life. It makes me well up with tears just thinking about it again. I truly am very fortunate in so many respects. Here are a few pics of my adventures this weekend, to share with you all. Pic to the right/above is at the peak of our hike in Runyon Canyon, above LA and in the distance, Century city. It was a really beautiful day. Below, Polly and me trying on sunglasses on the Universal Citywalk, and a few pics from brunch at my friend Sarah's house.

I have been fairly public with my journey and what I've been going through but for the first time at work this week, someone whom I had worked with but hadn't seen for a while caught me in the elevator and said "Oh you cut your hair! It looks so good but I almost didn't recognize you! When did you do that?"

In my mind: "Oh you didn't hear I had cancer? Almost the whole company knows."

One more time in my mind: "Oh it fell out with my chemo but Thanks anyway"

Last time with my internal monologue: "I know, I hardly recognize me on the inside too after what I've been through

I finally just landed on saying "Thank you, it was a few months ago" and leaving it at that. It was a 30 second elevator ride and I really didn't need to ruin his day. We can save that story for another time if he really wants to know. I did feel wonderful though that my hair is now at a place where people don't automatically assume I'm sick.

Otherwise on the health front I've been doing well aside from just being tired a lot. I still get Herceptin as an IV treatment every 3 weeks (until April), I get more saline in my tissue expanders every 3-4 weeks (until about next April), I am going to therapy, have to get a Muga-scan to measure my heart function every 3 months and am on tamoxifen (which blocks estrogen) for the next 5 years. So although everyone assumes I'm "better," to me it still feels like a lot. And it will for a while.

I've also noticed that now that my life is more settled, and my body and mind are finally relaxing from being in survival mode, more of the emotional trauma has started to come out. Little stuff sets me off and it's unnerving because I used to be able to hold it in and I just can't anymore. Just the other day I was at the gym, had finished some cardio and picked an empty group exercise room to do some stretches in. It was quiet and dark and I had my iphone playing slower music while I stretched off Pandora. I had never heard it before, but Tracy Chapman's song "Change" came on, and I just broke down bawling in the middle of the room by myself. Oddly, I felt incredible relief, so I'm just going to let it keep coming as long as it needs to.

Love,

Amy

Taking the Girls to Florida

Hi Team,

Today I just got back from my good friend Jean's wedding in Coral Springs, FL. I was wondering how taking saline implants through security at an airport would work since a week and a half ago I got 100ml injected in each, and originally there were 70ml, so converting... yes that's more than 3.4oz each. Not to worry, they did not detain me for bringing too much liquid through the security gate. Don't go getting any crazy ideas though.

Jean's wedding was beautiful, and I was basking in the beautiful warmth of the South Florida weather and beaches. My friends were very patient in listening to me say "I'm just SO happy right now!" It's the cheesiest thing, but I really do feel like just the sense of being really content, in a warm place, on the beach, with some really close old friends, having a beer or dancing our butts off together making a fool of ourselves is really just the best it gets. It makes me so overjoyed to feel that now, that it brings tears to my eyes. Is that weird? I'm ok with being weird. It's just been quite a while since I felt that kind of happiness and joy, it's overwhelming at times how fortunate I feel.

On the same subject of feeling fortunate, I have also been reading "Interpreter of Maladies", an excellent book of short stories. Well written, short but densly packed with meaning, some sadness but always a healthy dose of introspection. I read the second story which talks about a Pakistani citizen living in the US during the time of civil war in Pakistan, watching the news each day living in fear that his family was dead or going to die, or just fear of the unknown for what he would return to. I think about my last post, slightly judging the customer service lady on the bank phone line, and consider for a moment that I could be considered just as lucky by someone in a different situation. I felt like it was silly that the lady on the phone was telling me about her close-call to going to the hospital for bronchitis (or asthma?) when I had refered to my hospital stay which was for breast cancer. After reading this short story I shut the book and took a moment to put myself in my place, as I had wanted to for the lady on the phone. Although I faced a life threatening disease, I got it at an early stage, which was cureable, and am now disease free, only 6 months later. I feel deep loss, but my hair is already growing back, I will eventually have new boobs (although not the same sense of sensation in them), I will eventually start dating someone who I know will stick around through the hard times, and I will survive. I worry, but I do not wake up every day in fear and anxiety, wondering if I or my family or friends will be killed today. On the contrary, I get to wake up, have a cup of coffee, go to work, come home, and pet my kitties while I watch the SF Giants win the world series. Go Giants!

Love,

Amy

My New Perspective

Hi Team,

So I was smiling silently to myself this morning and thought I would share with you all. I was recently going over my credit card statement for last month and realized there were a bunch of charges on Sept. 17th from Xbox Live that I didn't make... I haven't been totally with the program so I didn't notice until now going over all my line items. So, I called in today to dispute the charges, not too alarmed because there are not any other fraudulent charges on my account.

I went through all the info with the lady at the bank and here is a snippet of our conversation:

Me: "I didn't make these charges, and I need them disputed and credited back. I was actually in the hospital on that day and there's no way that would have been charged."

BofA Customer Service nice Lady: "Oh you know, I have so many friends that have had to go to the hospital lately. I have this bug that hasn't gone away for almost a month now, I think it might be my asthma or maybe bronchitis."

Me: Silence.

Me: Resisting urge to say "Oh yeah, mine was breast cancer and I was having both my boobs cut off"

Me: Mentally debating just saying "Well, I'm sure you'll survive"

Me: Finally mentally landed on the understanding option, I said "Yeah there's a lot of that going around, I hope you feel better." ~more awkward silence~

Oh my. I am so proud of myself for not shooting down her story. I'm sure her asthma and/or bronchitis makes her uncomfortable, and hopefully she does get it checked out. Need to remind myself that even though I've gone through crazy life threatening disease does not mean other's health concerns are not valid. And there's no reason to make nice customer service lady who is getting my money credited back feel bad.

Happy Sunday!

Love,
Amy