Hi all,
As you can imagine Sheila and Jason are reading up on anti-cancer diets and they are trying to be as wise as they can be regarding smart food choices at this time. That said, they’re trying their best to stay away from refined sugars. Not an easy feat for a chocoholic (or ANY of us for that matter). So---while all the goodies are SO appreciated please hold off from send any more sweets (in FOOD form). Emails, text messages, cards, and most of all positive thoughts, energy, and prayers are more than welcome. Thanks for your understanding as the last thing they want to do is sound unappreciative of your wonderful intentions.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Merci & Champagne
The lovebirds thank the kind people who sent champagne to their wedding dinner at Palisade last night BUT they were not able to get to dinner afterall! There was apparently a car accident that closed down the bridge and all other routes were blocked. They got word from a neighbor that the champagne was ordered. Naturally, they are touched but unsure of whom to thank for the thoughtful gesture!
More Good News
This just in from Sheila~!
Just a quick update: got blood tests back from the geneticist. I tested negative for the two known breast cancer genes (BRCA1 and BRCA2). You may remember Christina Applegate’s decision to have a double mastectomy when she got breast cancer. She tested positive for the BRCA1 gene. Having these gene mutations increases your risk greatly of getting breast cancer in the other breast. It also means one has a greater chance of having ovarian cancer.
So, I do not carry these mutations. One less thing to worry about!
WE'RE THRILLED, SHEILA!!! Hope day one of married life is grand!
Just a quick update: got blood tests back from the geneticist. I tested negative for the two known breast cancer genes (BRCA1 and BRCA2). You may remember Christina Applegate’s decision to have a double mastectomy when she got breast cancer. She tested positive for the BRCA1 gene. Having these gene mutations increases your risk greatly of getting breast cancer in the other breast. It also means one has a greater chance of having ovarian cancer.
So, I do not carry these mutations. One less thing to worry about!
WE'RE THRILLED, SHEILA!!! Hope day one of married life is grand!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wedding Day
a picture (or two) is worth a thousand words.....
Congratulations Jason, Sheila, & Oliver! We love you!
Cute (but serious)
Sent from Sheila's close friend, Val
Dear God,
I pray for the cure of breast Cancer.
Amen
All you are asked to do is keep this circulating.
Even if it's to one more person.
In memory of anyone you know that has been struck down by cancer or is still living with it.
A Candle Loses Nothing by Lighting Another Candle.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Surgery Update and then a brief break from MEDICAL speak as it's wedding time!
Here's the latest regarding Monday's surgery from our brave, much loved Sheila.
Surgery is officially set for Monday. I am having a full mastectomy of the right breast with removal of the lymph nodes under the right arm. The nodes will be sent to a lab for dissection. Depending on how many are affected, I may follow up the chemotherapy with several weeks of radiation.
I check into Swedish at 11 a.m. The surgery, whenever it starts, should take a couple hours. I’ll probably be groggy until early evening. I’d like to request no visitors – I’ll only be there for one night and I am going to try and take advantage of the forced relaxation. I’d love visitors sometime after I get back home – I’ll be sure to let you know when that is.
A couple people have asked about recovery. The doctor said I will be quite sore for awhile, and unable to use the arm for a few days. I should have good range of motion within a week; about that time I should be able to drive as well. I’m being set up in the ACTIVE Program at Swedish – a physical therapy program for cancer patients. It should help get me moving again. I asked the nurse when I could start spinning classes again. I think she thought I was crazy.
So tomorrow, before the wedding, I am going to go buy a SOFTEE prosthetic camisole for use after the surgery. Ah, so romantic!
S & J (and little O) may you get lost in the beautiful moments of tomorrow (and one another)!
Surgery is officially set for Monday. I am having a full mastectomy of the right breast with removal of the lymph nodes under the right arm. The nodes will be sent to a lab for dissection. Depending on how many are affected, I may follow up the chemotherapy with several weeks of radiation.
I check into Swedish at 11 a.m. The surgery, whenever it starts, should take a couple hours. I’ll probably be groggy until early evening. I’d like to request no visitors – I’ll only be there for one night and I am going to try and take advantage of the forced relaxation. I’d love visitors sometime after I get back home – I’ll be sure to let you know when that is.
A couple people have asked about recovery. The doctor said I will be quite sore for awhile, and unable to use the arm for a few days. I should have good range of motion within a week; about that time I should be able to drive as well. I’m being set up in the ACTIVE Program at Swedish – a physical therapy program for cancer patients. It should help get me moving again. I asked the nurse when I could start spinning classes again. I think she thought I was crazy.
So tomorrow, before the wedding, I am going to go buy a SOFTEE prosthetic camisole for use after the surgery. Ah, so romantic!
S & J (and little O) may you get lost in the beautiful moments of tomorrow (and one another)!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Weekly Rap- UPDATED
Just an FYI--it's been updated.
I will update that button regularly (striving for Weekly thus the name) so check in on it. I will not send reminder posts here on out (unless requested!)
Thanks, Wendy~
I will update that button regularly (striving for Weekly thus the name) so check in on it. I will not send reminder posts here on out (unless requested!)
Thanks, Wendy~
Good News Today & a PS
The latest from our girl, Sheila
Two final procedures (results of minor flags raised by the PET/CT) turned up no problems. The first was an ultrasound of a mammary node – turned out to be nothing but a slightly larger-than-normal mammary node. The second procedure (originally scheduled for Thursday, but they were able to fit me in after the mammary node ultrasound) was an ultrasound of my ovaries, which also proved to be nothing. I could get into detail here, but that’s probably already more than you really want to know about my ovaries!
I celebrated by eating about five Godiva chocolates. Thanks, Craig! ;)
P.S. I got to see Sheila in THE dress for the Friday wedding (and her sassy, sexy new shoes, too!) She gave me chills. Literally. Her look is classic and vintage. Perfect. She promised to send me a wedding pic (when time allows) so I can post for you all!
Two final procedures (results of minor flags raised by the PET/CT) turned up no problems. The first was an ultrasound of a mammary node – turned out to be nothing but a slightly larger-than-normal mammary node. The second procedure (originally scheduled for Thursday, but they were able to fit me in after the mammary node ultrasound) was an ultrasound of my ovaries, which also proved to be nothing. I could get into detail here, but that’s probably already more than you really want to know about my ovaries!
I celebrated by eating about five Godiva chocolates. Thanks, Craig! ;)
P.S. I got to see Sheila in THE dress for the Friday wedding (and her sassy, sexy new shoes, too!) She gave me chills. Literally. Her look is classic and vintage. Perfect. She promised to send me a wedding pic (when time allows) so I can post for you all!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Forgetfulness, the kindness of strangers, and a new outlook- post from Sheila
I’ve long snickered under my breath when Jason would misplace his car keys, leave his wallet at the grocery store and leave his pants zipper (and belt!) undone (now that’s a topic for another blog post!). Now I am the one leaving things behind. At dim sum yesterday, I left my plastic tea mug somewhere at the restaurant. I know I brought it with me when I left the table, but somewhere between the restroom and the car, it disappeared. Then, today, I left my stainless steel water container at the swimming pool during Oliver’s lessons. I’ve heard of chemo-brain, but I haven’t even started treatment yet!
My mom and dad came up to Seattle today and my mom and I went up to Phinney Ridge to try and find a wedding dress. I had been feeling low on energy and depressed for the past couple days, and it just came to a head today. I didn’t have any desire to look through the cute dresses at the Frock Shop, nor did I want to continue the search at other shops on the Ridge. Instead, I insisted we come back home, where I just lay in bed for awhile and cried. As I was crying, I told myself, “This is the lowest I will go. It has to go up from here.” My mom, upset herself, pulled it together and gave me a pep talk I will never forget. “We will take this one step at a time,” she said. “We’ll do the surgery, then the chemo, then the radiation. One thing at a time.”
How simple, but it was something I was resisting. I have been focusing on the possibility of this cancer recurring, running scenarios in my brain about what may or may not happen three, seven, nine years down the road. Then Jason made a good point: I need to put all my focus on beating this 100 percent NOW, so the cancer doesn’t have a fighting chance to return again.
Later, when my parents left and Jason went back downstairs to work, I thought about what they said. My mom and Jason were looking at this as a beatable thing, whereas I was focusing on every bad thing I have ever heard. I know the success stories outweigh the others. I just wasn’t thinking about them.
I decided today was the day to get back to normal, despite the remaining procedures, consultations and upcoming surgery. By “normal,” I mean grocery shopping, writing, working and exercising. I mean thinking about what I am going to cook for dinner instead of what kind of cancer I am going to get next. It means taking Oliver to buy his friend Toni a present for her birthday party Saturday instead of reading my cancer books.
Driven by a new energy (and the realization that I have two small windows of time before Friday to find myself a dress!), I got out of bed and went back up to Phinney Ridge. At one store, I found a gift for a friend. At another, I found a great top and a dress that just might be The Dress for Friday. The saleswoman was very nice. When I told her I was shopping for my wedding dress, she wanted all the details. After skirting the issue for a few minutes, I told her my situation. Details and all. We visited for awhile, she wrapped my purchases and I headed home.
It wasn’t until a few hours later when I was showing Jason my clothes that I discovered something small wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of my bag. I pulled it out, removed the paper, and saw a cream-colored candle in the shape of an angel. The saleswoman had slipped this into my bag without me seeing. What a symbol to mark the beginning of a new outlook.
As touching as that gesture was, it doesn’t come close to the outreach that has come from my friends and family. Where to begin? Phone calls and cards. Emails and flowers. Blogs created, designed and diligently updated. Boxes of candy from Chicago. A cookie from Minneapolis. Brownies from Denver. Books, a make-a-wish necklace, a basket of popcorn and candy, and DVDs chosen from the heart. An offer from a friend to use her long blond hair for a wig. Another offer to create a plaster breast cast before my surgery. Painstakingly typed text messages from a friend who – text unsavvy – sends them anyway because I told her that they are less exhausting than phone calls right now.
My temporary forgetfulness may cause me to leave my water bottle behind, but the words, gifts, and good thoughts from loved ones will never be far from my mind. Thank you!
My mom and dad came up to Seattle today and my mom and I went up to Phinney Ridge to try and find a wedding dress. I had been feeling low on energy and depressed for the past couple days, and it just came to a head today. I didn’t have any desire to look through the cute dresses at the Frock Shop, nor did I want to continue the search at other shops on the Ridge. Instead, I insisted we come back home, where I just lay in bed for awhile and cried. As I was crying, I told myself, “This is the lowest I will go. It has to go up from here.” My mom, upset herself, pulled it together and gave me a pep talk I will never forget. “We will take this one step at a time,” she said. “We’ll do the surgery, then the chemo, then the radiation. One thing at a time.”
How simple, but it was something I was resisting. I have been focusing on the possibility of this cancer recurring, running scenarios in my brain about what may or may not happen three, seven, nine years down the road. Then Jason made a good point: I need to put all my focus on beating this 100 percent NOW, so the cancer doesn’t have a fighting chance to return again.
Later, when my parents left and Jason went back downstairs to work, I thought about what they said. My mom and Jason were looking at this as a beatable thing, whereas I was focusing on every bad thing I have ever heard. I know the success stories outweigh the others. I just wasn’t thinking about them.
I decided today was the day to get back to normal, despite the remaining procedures, consultations and upcoming surgery. By “normal,” I mean grocery shopping, writing, working and exercising. I mean thinking about what I am going to cook for dinner instead of what kind of cancer I am going to get next. It means taking Oliver to buy his friend Toni a present for her birthday party Saturday instead of reading my cancer books.
Driven by a new energy (and the realization that I have two small windows of time before Friday to find myself a dress!), I got out of bed and went back up to Phinney Ridge. At one store, I found a gift for a friend. At another, I found a great top and a dress that just might be The Dress for Friday. The saleswoman was very nice. When I told her I was shopping for my wedding dress, she wanted all the details. After skirting the issue for a few minutes, I told her my situation. Details and all. We visited for awhile, she wrapped my purchases and I headed home.
It wasn’t until a few hours later when I was showing Jason my clothes that I discovered something small wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of my bag. I pulled it out, removed the paper, and saw a cream-colored candle in the shape of an angel. The saleswoman had slipped this into my bag without me seeing. What a symbol to mark the beginning of a new outlook.
As touching as that gesture was, it doesn’t come close to the outreach that has come from my friends and family. Where to begin? Phone calls and cards. Emails and flowers. Blogs created, designed and diligently updated. Boxes of candy from Chicago. A cookie from Minneapolis. Brownies from Denver. Books, a make-a-wish necklace, a basket of popcorn and candy, and DVDs chosen from the heart. An offer from a friend to use her long blond hair for a wig. Another offer to create a plaster breast cast before my surgery. Painstakingly typed text messages from a friend who – text unsavvy – sends them anyway because I told her that they are less exhausting than phone calls right now.
My temporary forgetfulness may cause me to leave my water bottle behind, but the words, gifts, and good thoughts from loved ones will never be far from my mind. Thank you!
Monday, January 26, 2009
LOVEly news to note
You must get this news straight from Sheila herself. Here is what she wrote after sending me the previous update...
Oh - and one bright note - we are getting married by a Justice of the Peace Friday at 4:30 downtown! Seems so crazy for this to get wedged in amidst all this, but it was our one window of opportunity before we get down to business.
Congratulations Sheila & Jason!
We're here for you and darling Oliver!
~Much love~
Oh - and one bright note - we are getting married by a Justice of the Peace Friday at 4:30 downtown! Seems so crazy for this to get wedged in amidst all this, but it was our one window of opportunity before we get down to business.
Congratulations Sheila & Jason!
We're here for you and darling Oliver!
~Much love~
The Latest
Sheila wanted you all up to speed after her appointment today with the oncologist.
Here is what she writes:
Consult with oncologist went well:
* Surgery will likely be Feb. 2 as expected; definite right mastectomy. I need to decide whether or not to remove the other breast. Chance of recurrence in the other breast is no higher than it would be for any other woman, but I am not sure whether I want to take the chance.
* Chemo will start three weeks after surgery (on or around Feb. 23, if we stick with the Feb. 2 surgery date)
* I'll be getting the strongest dose of chemo they have for breast cancer patients: Dose-dense ACT. I will have 4-6 doses of one kind of chemo (one every two wks, so 8-12 week duration), then 12 weeks of a second kind. Likely radiation after that.
* Reconstruction would occur after treatment is done.
I have two more procedures scheduled this week to double check a couple things the techs saw during the PET/CT.
(please note: I have posted them under the Stay Abreast section.)
It has been another long, draining day for her. She remains strong and wonderful--asking about my life and looking forward to escaping somewhat and watching The Bachelor tonite. Bless her and her amazing strength.
Here is what she writes:
Consult with oncologist went well:
* Surgery will likely be Feb. 2 as expected; definite right mastectomy. I need to decide whether or not to remove the other breast. Chance of recurrence in the other breast is no higher than it would be for any other woman, but I am not sure whether I want to take the chance.
* Chemo will start three weeks after surgery (on or around Feb. 23, if we stick with the Feb. 2 surgery date)
* I'll be getting the strongest dose of chemo they have for breast cancer patients: Dose-dense ACT. I will have 4-6 doses of one kind of chemo (one every two wks, so 8-12 week duration), then 12 weeks of a second kind. Likely radiation after that.
* Reconstruction would occur after treatment is done.
I have two more procedures scheduled this week to double check a couple things the techs saw during the PET/CT.
(please note: I have posted them under the Stay Abreast section.)
It has been another long, draining day for her. She remains strong and wonderful--asking about my life and looking forward to escaping somewhat and watching The Bachelor tonite. Bless her and her amazing strength.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Disregard posts below- designer is "creating!"
Hi there,
Our fab designer, Michelle Baird, founder of Shabby Creations, http://shabbycreations.blogspot.com/ is making some cool buttons on the side of the blog for us so I had to create the posts below for her to use. Just ignore them for now and stay tuned for the hip buttons!
Thanks~ k
Our fab designer, Michelle Baird, founder of Shabby Creations, http://shabbycreations.blogspot.com/ is making some cool buttons on the side of the blog for us so I had to create the posts below for her to use. Just ignore them for now and stay tuned for the hip buttons!
Thanks~ k
Stay Abreast
Weekly Abraxine Infusions @ Swedish Cancer Institute
Tues., April 21, 2:20 p.m. - 3 p.m.~ JASON or Sheila's MOM to cover
Tues., April 28, 11 a.m. - noon~Katie to cover, pick up @10: 30 a.m.
Tues, May 5, 10 a.m.-11 a.m. - Carol Lamotte to cover, pick up @ 9:30 a.m.
Tues., May 12, 9:40 a.m.-10:30 a.m. - Jennifer Dwyer to cover, pick up @ 9 a.m.)
Tues., May 19, 9:20 a.m.-10 a.m. - Tami Herlocker to cover-pick up @ 8:45 a.m.
Tues., May 26, 9:40 a.m.-10 a.m. - Judy Cites to cover -pick up @ 9 a.m.)
Tues., April 21, 2:20 p.m. - 3 p.m.~ JASON or Sheila's MOM to cover
Tues., April 28, 11 a.m. - noon~Katie to cover, pick up @10: 30 a.m.
Tues, May 5, 10 a.m.-11 a.m. - Carol Lamotte to cover, pick up @ 9:30 a.m.
Tues., May 12, 9:40 a.m.-10:30 a.m. - Jennifer Dwyer to cover, pick up @ 9 a.m.)
Tues., May 19, 9:20 a.m.-10 a.m. - Tami Herlocker to cover-pick up @ 8:45 a.m.
Tues., May 26, 9:40 a.m.-10 a.m. - Judy Cites to cover -pick up @ 9 a.m.)
The Story
Here is Sheila's story in her own words.
Sheila was diagnosed with invasive ductile carcinoma on January 9, 2009. She felt a lump in her right breast in early December, and visited her primary care physician shortly after returning to Seattle from spending the holidays in Colorado.
That visit led to an ultrasound of the lump, an immediate core biopsy and the diagnosis a few days later. So far, it has been determined that the one lymph node that was aspirated at the time of the core biopsy is also cancerous.
The cancer started in a milk duct and, once it grew too big to be contained, broke free and continued to grow. This is when she discovered it. Ductile cancers can grow in milk ducts for up to eight years before they are detected. It is not known how long this cancer was present, and tests will determine how far it has spread.Dense breast tissue hid the cancer from mammograms.
Sheila had annual mammograms since she was 35; the latest being September of 2008. Nothing was detected at that time.Both Sheila’s grandmothers had breast cancer – one was 74, and the other was 80 when diagnosed. Both were cured and continued to lead healthy lives.
Sheila was diagnosed with invasive ductile carcinoma on January 9, 2009. She felt a lump in her right breast in early December, and visited her primary care physician shortly after returning to Seattle from spending the holidays in Colorado.
That visit led to an ultrasound of the lump, an immediate core biopsy and the diagnosis a few days later. So far, it has been determined that the one lymph node that was aspirated at the time of the core biopsy is also cancerous.
The cancer started in a milk duct and, once it grew too big to be contained, broke free and continued to grow. This is when she discovered it. Ductile cancers can grow in milk ducts for up to eight years before they are detected. It is not known how long this cancer was present, and tests will determine how far it has spread.Dense breast tissue hid the cancer from mammograms.
Sheila had annual mammograms since she was 35; the latest being September of 2008. Nothing was detected at that time.Both Sheila’s grandmothers had breast cancer – one was 74, and the other was 80 when diagnosed. Both were cured and continued to lead healthy lives.
The Weekly Rap
Weekly Rap, March 3, 2009
The surgery went smoothly, but I stood once pain subsided
And promptly hit the floor cause now my top is all lopsided
I got a fancy halter with a boob sewn to the top
But now I live in terror of a large resounding pop
And Jason didn't get it when I said I must weigh in!
And yes, ain't it amazing what I'll do to keep so thin?
Weekly Rap, February 13, 2009
So things may get quite hairy, or perhaps they'll be more bald.
I've always had this humor so don't act like you're appalled.
I have no love for pity and I'll call you on it quick.
Don't think about my body, it's my RAP that's really sick!
Weekly Rap, January 28, 2009
Sheila talked to Wendy cuz she's less a friend more sistah.
She said, "It's been awhile and baby girl I've really missed ya.
“So lately I've been stressed because instead of feeling frumpy...
I got it on in private and found out I'm somewhat lumpy.”
Weekly Wrap, January 21, 2009
The lady had a shady so she checked it in a scan.
She got a lousy answer from the doc, you know, a man.
It wasn't what she hoped for, no it wasn't the right ansa.
The dude he said the wrong thing when he said it was the canca
About the author:
Wendy (close friend to Sheila) is the woman behind The Weekly Rap. Here is her back story (in her own words). Wendy is your typical white rapper from a bad ass Twin City suburb in Minnesota - a 38 year old single-never-married (shut up) grandmother who lives with two cats (shut up). A healthcare technology sales rep by day, she spends her evenings teaching boot camp classes and knitting (shut up). Her personal philosophy can be summed up with a single phrase: If the shoe fits, buy it in every color.
The surgery went smoothly, but I stood once pain subsided
And promptly hit the floor cause now my top is all lopsided
I got a fancy halter with a boob sewn to the top
But now I live in terror of a large resounding pop
And Jason didn't get it when I said I must weigh in!
And yes, ain't it amazing what I'll do to keep so thin?
Weekly Rap, February 13, 2009
So things may get quite hairy, or perhaps they'll be more bald.
I've always had this humor so don't act like you're appalled.
I have no love for pity and I'll call you on it quick.
Don't think about my body, it's my RAP that's really sick!
Weekly Rap, January 28, 2009
Sheila talked to Wendy cuz she's less a friend more sistah.
She said, "It's been awhile and baby girl I've really missed ya.
“So lately I've been stressed because instead of feeling frumpy...
I got it on in private and found out I'm somewhat lumpy.”
Weekly Wrap, January 21, 2009
The lady had a shady so she checked it in a scan.
She got a lousy answer from the doc, you know, a man.
It wasn't what she hoped for, no it wasn't the right ansa.
The dude he said the wrong thing when he said it was the canca
About the author:
Wendy (close friend to Sheila) is the woman behind The Weekly Rap. Here is her back story (in her own words). Wendy is your typical white rapper from a bad ass Twin City suburb in Minnesota - a 38 year old single-never-married (shut up) grandmother who lives with two cats (shut up). A healthcare technology sales rep by day, she spends her evenings teaching boot camp classes and knitting (shut up). Her personal philosophy can be summed up with a single phrase: If the shoe fits, buy it in every color.
Another Test Update (and Mama Bear)
Please find the results of Sheila's PET/CT Scan below as reported on Friday afternoon.
* PET/CT (full body scan) saw no tumors in major organs. It did see a small mammary node along the ribs on the right side that they'll want to take a closer look at with an ultrasound. It showed no glucose uptake, however. If it had, it would have indicated cancer. If this turns out to be something, they'd just hit it with radiation when I get my treatment.
All- Sheila is once again processing the info. as best she can and obviously delivering us the news as soon as she can (and as soon as I can post!) so we're all up to speed. I can tell she really wants to make sure we're alright.
Clearly she's gotten some good results this week and we were all here to celebrate with her. She knows we're also here to rally with her if the news is not as great as she would like. While she knows this in theory I also know she wants to protect us some and I am here to state to Sheila on behalf of us all, "It ain't about us, girl."
We are here to support, love, nurture, cry, celebrate, hope, dream, and just BE with you. Anytime. Regardless.
* PET/CT (full body scan) saw no tumors in major organs. It did see a small mammary node along the ribs on the right side that they'll want to take a closer look at with an ultrasound. It showed no glucose uptake, however. If it had, it would have indicated cancer. If this turns out to be something, they'd just hit it with radiation when I get my treatment.
All- Sheila is once again processing the info. as best she can and obviously delivering us the news as soon as she can (and as soon as I can post!) so we're all up to speed. I can tell she really wants to make sure we're alright.
Clearly she's gotten some good results this week and we were all here to celebrate with her. She knows we're also here to rally with her if the news is not as great as she would like. While she knows this in theory I also know she wants to protect us some and I am here to state to Sheila on behalf of us all, "It ain't about us, girl."
We are here to support, love, nurture, cry, celebrate, hope, dream, and just BE with you. Anytime. Regardless.
Something to Complain About --blog from Sheila
Like clockwork, Oliver’s school bus rolls up to the stop at 8:28 a.m. every school day. And like clockwork, his bus driver has something to gripe about.
I don’t know this woman well. In fact, I have never even seen her outside the driver’s seat of the #500. What I do know, is that she’s a complete grouch. She seems to be civil to the children – I’ve never seen her bark at them. She’s just one of those people who seems to have a problem with other drivers (especially other bus drivers), traffic, weather conditions, and basically anything that really doesn’t matter in the whole scheme of things. She always has some sort of complaint to share with me as soon as the bus doors open.
Take yesterday, for example. As the bus pulled up to the stop and Oliver got on, she started in. First came the eye roll. Then she started complaining. This time it was directed towards the school bus driver that had just pulled away from the curb. “Did you see that?” she asked me. “What’s that?” I replied. “The guy puts on his blinkers, but he doesn’t put on his flashers,” she spat. Not being a bus driver myself, the severity of this offense was lost on me. I tried to sympathize, but all I could get out was a shoulder shrug and an, “Oh, yeah?”She shook her head, rolled her eyes again and ironically told me to “Have a good day,” like she always does.
Until now, I’ve always snickered at her behavior under my breath as the bus pulled away. But at this point in my life, she really ticks me off. I admit I am a bit touchy at the moment. Getting a cancer diagnosis brings about a range of emotions: fear, depression, denial and self-pity, to name a few. It also makes one realize just how much some stuff just doesn’t matter. Even if this grave transgression on the part of the other bus driver was forgotten as Oliver’s driver pulled away, she still wasted 6.2 seconds of her life being pissed off about it. What a waste of time!
Other things that are a waste of time: getting annoyed at the computer, denying one’s self pastries, straightening up the kitchen counter several times a day and being annoyed by Seattle’s gray skies. In my opinion, it also doesn’t make sense to complain about your life when you have a job, a home, good friends and family. I see this all too often, and I’ve been guilty of it from time to time myself. I’m not complaining anymore.
Worrying myself about my future health is also a waste of time, so I have decided I am not going to do it anymore. I made a big mistake yesterday and started doing some online research on the characteristics of my particular type of tumor. I didn’t like what I saw, and it made me scared and depressed. As cliché as it sounds, and at the advice of the wise Wendy, I am going to live one day at a time.
Anyone care to join me?
I don’t know this woman well. In fact, I have never even seen her outside the driver’s seat of the #500. What I do know, is that she’s a complete grouch. She seems to be civil to the children – I’ve never seen her bark at them. She’s just one of those people who seems to have a problem with other drivers (especially other bus drivers), traffic, weather conditions, and basically anything that really doesn’t matter in the whole scheme of things. She always has some sort of complaint to share with me as soon as the bus doors open.
Take yesterday, for example. As the bus pulled up to the stop and Oliver got on, she started in. First came the eye roll. Then she started complaining. This time it was directed towards the school bus driver that had just pulled away from the curb. “Did you see that?” she asked me. “What’s that?” I replied. “The guy puts on his blinkers, but he doesn’t put on his flashers,” she spat. Not being a bus driver myself, the severity of this offense was lost on me. I tried to sympathize, but all I could get out was a shoulder shrug and an, “Oh, yeah?”She shook her head, rolled her eyes again and ironically told me to “Have a good day,” like she always does.
Until now, I’ve always snickered at her behavior under my breath as the bus pulled away. But at this point in my life, she really ticks me off. I admit I am a bit touchy at the moment. Getting a cancer diagnosis brings about a range of emotions: fear, depression, denial and self-pity, to name a few. It also makes one realize just how much some stuff just doesn’t matter. Even if this grave transgression on the part of the other bus driver was forgotten as Oliver’s driver pulled away, she still wasted 6.2 seconds of her life being pissed off about it. What a waste of time!
Other things that are a waste of time: getting annoyed at the computer, denying one’s self pastries, straightening up the kitchen counter several times a day and being annoyed by Seattle’s gray skies. In my opinion, it also doesn’t make sense to complain about your life when you have a job, a home, good friends and family. I see this all too often, and I’ve been guilty of it from time to time myself. I’m not complaining anymore.
Worrying myself about my future health is also a waste of time, so I have decided I am not going to do it anymore. I made a big mistake yesterday and started doing some online research on the characteristics of my particular type of tumor. I didn’t like what I saw, and it made me scared and depressed. As cliché as it sounds, and at the advice of the wise Wendy, I am going to live one day at a time.
Anyone care to join me?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Shout Out
I had to call out a friend of Jason's from Colorado (Dave Hughes) who created the header of the blog featuring the retro image of Sheila. It rocks, yes?
Clearly he's an artist. Apparently it's just a hobby. I say it's time he starts taking that talent to the streets and cashing in!
Clearly he's an artist. Apparently it's just a hobby. I say it's time he starts taking that talent to the streets and cashing in!
Seeking Bookworm
Sheila says a kind soul sent her a book called “Crazy Sexy Cancer Survivor,” which was sent directly from the book distributor so there was no note indicating who purchased it for her.
She would love to know, naturally, as she is grateful and very pleased with the gift!
I just got this note below from her which brought tears to my eyes. The first tears of JOY I've cried in days.
Off to take a bath and warm these cancer-free bones!! ;)
Does she have the right attitude or what? She knew just what she was doing when she titled this blog, Stomp This!
She would love to know, naturally, as she is grateful and very pleased with the gift!
I just got this note below from her which brought tears to my eyes. The first tears of JOY I've cried in days.
Off to take a bath and warm these cancer-free bones!! ;)
Does she have the right attitude or what? She knew just what she was doing when she titled this blog, Stomp This!
Report Card, Housekeeping and a Word from Our Sponsor
Report Card
Sheila aced another test-- "All clear on bone scan" read the text message she shot to me late this afternoon. Not sure I've ever received a more positive text message! Way to go, girl!
Housekeeping
So, as I stated I am working out the kinks of the blog. I am SO not technical so thanks for bearing with me.
Some of you have asked how to post a comment. You should be able to click on the comment link on the bottom of each post and a page will be opened up for you to post a comment in a box located off to the right. You will then be asked to choose an identity. You can either sign up for a google/blogger account (it's really no big deal, trust me--remember, NOT a techie here!) or you can simply click the bubble next to "name" to comment or you can choose the "anonymous" bubble to comment anonymously (which is not nearly as fun for us voyeurs!)
In terms of creating a google account there is a link to click on that simply reads, "sign up here."
Once you draft your comment and determine your identity simply click publish your comment and you're done!
Holler if you need any more instruction and I will do my best to guide you or I'll at least tap into my techie friends for a clue...
Update from the star of our show~ Sheila!
January 21, 2009
News back from Monday’s MRI is great: no other lumps or lymph node involvement other than what we already know. For the first time in a week I have been able to sleep a full night. Tuesday’s bone scan brought good news as well – no cancer detected. I have a strange, giddy feeling about this – but then I remember: I still have cancer. It’s an odd place to be.
Monday’s MRI
What a surprise it was to walk in the procedure room and be immediately taken aback by the MRI machine. It was a tunnel about five feet long, and I got a funny feeling in my stomach the second I saw it. The patient lies flat on the table and is rolled into the tunnel. Both ends remain open, but the machine’s diameter is small and the top of the cylinder is only a few inches from one’s face. As I started rolling in, I began to panic and I immediately asked the tech to roll me back out. We went through this three times. I began to think that I was not going to be able to do it. We finally compromised: if I took out the earplugs and removed the head positioned, I felt less confined. Being in the tunnel for 20 minutes was not fun, but I just kept my eyes closed and tried not to notice how confined I was. Rebecca came with me and was able to come into the room and calm me. That helped.
Tuesday’s bone scan
Piece of cake. After a shot of dye, Katie and I were able to go get a scone and a mocha at Starbucks. It was there we watched Obama’s inauguration. Truly a historic moment and one that was quite symbolic for me: a new beginning for our country, and hopefully a new beginning for me. The machine was a stockier version of the MRI, but not nearly as confining. The procedure took about an hour. The scanner moved over the top of me as I lay on the table. Results came back today: all clear!
Today: genetic testing
Interesting counseling session. My age and the fact that my tumor is ER/PR and HER2/neu negative means there’s a 20 percent chance I carry one of two breast cancer genes. If I carry these mutations, there’s a 40 percent chance I’ll eventually get breast cancer in the other breast, and a 20 to 40 percent chance I will develop ovarian cancer. In fact, of those women with the gene mutation who opt to take out their ovaries, one in five will already have early stages of ovarian cancer (detected once the ovaries are out and examined). Unfortunately there is no test to detect the early stages of ovarian cancer. Once you have it and it’s detected, it’s almost always too late. The surgery is tentatively scheduled for Feb. 2, although the genetic testing results will take three weeks to come back. It will be up to my oncologist to decide whether to wait for the test results or go ahead with the surgery as scheduled.
The ER/PR and HER2/neu business is still a bit of a mystery to me. I do know that if you are positive in these areas, it means your tumor is fueled by estrogen and progesterone. In that case, patients are often given a drug that blocks the production of estrogen and sends them into early menopause. I’m thankful that this isn’t the case for me – all I need is more cycle-related mood swings! I have heard that being ER/PR and HER2/neu negative (“triple negative,” it’s called) results in a more aggressive tumor, which is nothing we didn’t already know – the pathology report showed that my tumor scored a 9 of 9 on the aggressiveness scale (I’ve got a bad-ass tumor – yeah!). Aggressive tumors do respond best to chemo, though, so I have that going for me.
Tomorrow: the PET CT – a full body scan. Preparation started today – no sugar or starches and nothing to eat after midnight tonight. Shannon felt my pain – we had plans to indulge in a scone and a mocha after the genetic test, but I got a reminder call (just in time!) from the PET CT office to remind me of the “no sugar” rule. So, we had some noodle soup without the noodles – and it was great! Of course all I can think about now (7 p.m.) is the Fran’s chocolates that Lorna brought over last night and the remaining cream puff Anne made. Self control was never one of my strong points.
Friday it’s time to celebrate. NK moms – are you ready? :)
Sheila aced another test-- "All clear on bone scan" read the text message she shot to me late this afternoon. Not sure I've ever received a more positive text message! Way to go, girl!
Housekeeping
So, as I stated I am working out the kinks of the blog. I am SO not technical so thanks for bearing with me.
Some of you have asked how to post a comment. You should be able to click on the comment link on the bottom of each post and a page will be opened up for you to post a comment in a box located off to the right. You will then be asked to choose an identity. You can either sign up for a google/blogger account (it's really no big deal, trust me--remember, NOT a techie here!) or you can simply click the bubble next to "name" to comment or you can choose the "anonymous" bubble to comment anonymously (which is not nearly as fun for us voyeurs!)
In terms of creating a google account there is a link to click on that simply reads, "sign up here."
Once you draft your comment and determine your identity simply click publish your comment and you're done!
Holler if you need any more instruction and I will do my best to guide you or I'll at least tap into my techie friends for a clue...
Update from the star of our show~ Sheila!
January 21, 2009
News back from Monday’s MRI is great: no other lumps or lymph node involvement other than what we already know. For the first time in a week I have been able to sleep a full night. Tuesday’s bone scan brought good news as well – no cancer detected. I have a strange, giddy feeling about this – but then I remember: I still have cancer. It’s an odd place to be.
Monday’s MRI
What a surprise it was to walk in the procedure room and be immediately taken aback by the MRI machine. It was a tunnel about five feet long, and I got a funny feeling in my stomach the second I saw it. The patient lies flat on the table and is rolled into the tunnel. Both ends remain open, but the machine’s diameter is small and the top of the cylinder is only a few inches from one’s face. As I started rolling in, I began to panic and I immediately asked the tech to roll me back out. We went through this three times. I began to think that I was not going to be able to do it. We finally compromised: if I took out the earplugs and removed the head positioned, I felt less confined. Being in the tunnel for 20 minutes was not fun, but I just kept my eyes closed and tried not to notice how confined I was. Rebecca came with me and was able to come into the room and calm me. That helped.
Tuesday’s bone scan
Piece of cake. After a shot of dye, Katie and I were able to go get a scone and a mocha at Starbucks. It was there we watched Obama’s inauguration. Truly a historic moment and one that was quite symbolic for me: a new beginning for our country, and hopefully a new beginning for me. The machine was a stockier version of the MRI, but not nearly as confining. The procedure took about an hour. The scanner moved over the top of me as I lay on the table. Results came back today: all clear!
Today: genetic testing
Interesting counseling session. My age and the fact that my tumor is ER/PR and HER2/neu negative means there’s a 20 percent chance I carry one of two breast cancer genes. If I carry these mutations, there’s a 40 percent chance I’ll eventually get breast cancer in the other breast, and a 20 to 40 percent chance I will develop ovarian cancer. In fact, of those women with the gene mutation who opt to take out their ovaries, one in five will already have early stages of ovarian cancer (detected once the ovaries are out and examined). Unfortunately there is no test to detect the early stages of ovarian cancer. Once you have it and it’s detected, it’s almost always too late. The surgery is tentatively scheduled for Feb. 2, although the genetic testing results will take three weeks to come back. It will be up to my oncologist to decide whether to wait for the test results or go ahead with the surgery as scheduled.
The ER/PR and HER2/neu business is still a bit of a mystery to me. I do know that if you are positive in these areas, it means your tumor is fueled by estrogen and progesterone. In that case, patients are often given a drug that blocks the production of estrogen and sends them into early menopause. I’m thankful that this isn’t the case for me – all I need is more cycle-related mood swings! I have heard that being ER/PR and HER2/neu negative (“triple negative,” it’s called) results in a more aggressive tumor, which is nothing we didn’t already know – the pathology report showed that my tumor scored a 9 of 9 on the aggressiveness scale (I’ve got a bad-ass tumor – yeah!). Aggressive tumors do respond best to chemo, though, so I have that going for me.
Tomorrow: the PET CT – a full body scan. Preparation started today – no sugar or starches and nothing to eat after midnight tonight. Shannon felt my pain – we had plans to indulge in a scone and a mocha after the genetic test, but I got a reminder call (just in time!) from the PET CT office to remind me of the “no sugar” rule. So, we had some noodle soup without the noodles – and it was great! Of course all I can think about now (7 p.m.) is the Fran’s chocolates that Lorna brought over last night and the remaining cream puff Anne made. Self control was never one of my strong points.
Friday it’s time to celebrate. NK moms – are you ready? :)
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Bone Scans and Dreadlocks
To an outsider, 7 a.m. on Tuesday at Sheila’s house resembled a typical morning in countless homes all across America. Darling child with bedhead (still sporting his pjs) begging mama to stay home and play for the day. The “man of the house” reassuring the boy mom would return soon and bidding her farewell with a kiss and a snug.
She was off to her bone scan appointment. The day before was the MRI appointment. The following day will be the genetic testing appointment. The day after that is the PET scan appointment. Clearly, nothing here is typical.
Armed with a binder filled with far more medical information than anyone should ever have to digest, our always organized intrepid reporter walked into the dark, foggy morning and once again stepped into the unknown. She was sporting her skinny jeans and looked fab, I might add. Most of all she carried herself with poise and composure like no other.
We arrived at the bone scan appointment and she was ushered in to have the dye injected prior to the scan. We had a 45 minute window as we waited for the dye to “do its thing” (I know, I know—what does “do its thing mean?”) No clue. I will have to ask more questions if I am supposed to be the one to update you. Bear with me for now as I am still learning but I will get better, promise. For now--back to waiting for the dye to work—we decided to wait it out at Starbucks. We watched the inauguration and chatted some mostly about reality shows, Saturday Night Live, and what she should wear on her head if the time comes (bleached blond wig with blue highlights? A doo-rag? We did determine the hat Aretha Franklin wore at the inauguration was one we should avoid). I assured her I’d gather some ideas we can present to her if needed.
Minutes later she was having the bone scan done. We talked a bit more as she lay on the table and the machine scanned her beautiful body. She was so brave. Nearly 45 minutes later as the procedure was nearing and I thought she might be sleeping dear Sheila simply said, “dreadlocks.” I am not sure if I ever was more inspired by another.
She was off to her bone scan appointment. The day before was the MRI appointment. The following day will be the genetic testing appointment. The day after that is the PET scan appointment. Clearly, nothing here is typical.
Armed with a binder filled with far more medical information than anyone should ever have to digest, our always organized intrepid reporter walked into the dark, foggy morning and once again stepped into the unknown. She was sporting her skinny jeans and looked fab, I might add. Most of all she carried herself with poise and composure like no other.
We arrived at the bone scan appointment and she was ushered in to have the dye injected prior to the scan. We had a 45 minute window as we waited for the dye to “do its thing” (I know, I know—what does “do its thing mean?”) No clue. I will have to ask more questions if I am supposed to be the one to update you. Bear with me for now as I am still learning but I will get better, promise. For now--back to waiting for the dye to work—we decided to wait it out at Starbucks. We watched the inauguration and chatted some mostly about reality shows, Saturday Night Live, and what she should wear on her head if the time comes (bleached blond wig with blue highlights? A doo-rag? We did determine the hat Aretha Franklin wore at the inauguration was one we should avoid). I assured her I’d gather some ideas we can present to her if needed.
Minutes later she was having the bone scan done. We talked a bit more as she lay on the table and the machine scanned her beautiful body. She was so brave. Nearly 45 minutes later as the procedure was nearing and I thought she might be sleeping dear Sheila simply said, “dreadlocks.” I am not sure if I ever was more inspired by another.
Exhale
I sent the following email to many of you on Tuesday, January 20 (opened below as an FYI). I wanted to share with you many of the comments that were sent back to me about our beloved Sheila. She is so fortunate to have you.
The email~
“Very good news” was the report Sheila and Jason received today after yesterday’s MRI.
Here’s the good word:
MRI showed nothing they did not already know. (They knew it was a 3 cm mass on her right breast (they said it may extend a little further, not sure). They knew there was lymph node involvement in her right armpit. They are not sure how many nodes are in the lump in her armpit.)
BUT--no other lymph nodes are affected and no lumps were detected in her other breast or around her sternum.
It was SUPER news. Sheila exhaled for what felt like the first time in days she said.
I can tell you—seeing Sheila and Jason embrace after receiving the call was magical.
Lastly, Sheila had her bone scan today and was a real trooper. She even managed to eat a scone (which showed me she was striving to be as positive as she can be despite all the chaos). She is an inspiration indeed. We were able to duck into a Starbucks while we waited for the dye to work prior to the bone scan and we witnessed the inauguration.
That’s the news for now. ~Katie
Glimpses into a few of your hearts (I took the liberty of editing some of the comments simply for flow purposes)~
I feel like I have been holding my breath waiting also. She is the best person I know and one of the strongest which is so awesome. Val
that's a HUUUUGE exhale. Great news Sheila. You are amazing, and I hope you continue to get good news amidst all this craziness and scariness for you. I so appreciate these updates and send you lots of love. elham
I think we can all exhale a bit. Anne
FANTASTIC news!!! I am breathing a sigh of relief today for Sheila as well,
and for all Americans in fact on this day. What a great day to be alive! Lara
The email~
“Very good news” was the report Sheila and Jason received today after yesterday’s MRI.
Here’s the good word:
MRI showed nothing they did not already know. (They knew it was a 3 cm mass on her right breast (they said it may extend a little further, not sure). They knew there was lymph node involvement in her right armpit. They are not sure how many nodes are in the lump in her armpit.)
BUT--no other lymph nodes are affected and no lumps were detected in her other breast or around her sternum.
It was SUPER news. Sheila exhaled for what felt like the first time in days she said.
I can tell you—seeing Sheila and Jason embrace after receiving the call was magical.
Lastly, Sheila had her bone scan today and was a real trooper. She even managed to eat a scone (which showed me she was striving to be as positive as she can be despite all the chaos). She is an inspiration indeed. We were able to duck into a Starbucks while we waited for the dye to work prior to the bone scan and we witnessed the inauguration.
That’s the news for now. ~Katie
Glimpses into a few of your hearts (I took the liberty of editing some of the comments simply for flow purposes)~
I feel like I have been holding my breath waiting also. She is the best person I know and one of the strongest which is so awesome. Val
that's a HUUUUGE exhale. Great news Sheila. You are amazing, and I hope you continue to get good news amidst all this craziness and scariness for you. I so appreciate these updates and send you lots of love. elham
I think we can all exhale a bit. Anne
FANTASTIC news!!! I am breathing a sigh of relief today for Sheila as well,
and for all Americans in fact on this day. What a great day to be alive! Lara
Sheila - congrats on passing your first test of the week! And, way to pack it all in today - taking tests, getting test results, eating a scone AND watching the inauguration! I think you've accomplished much more today than I have. What a day...Lynae
Sheila, I'm right there with you, inhaling and exhaling and enjoying the thrill of simply breathing and taking in the day. It has been a most important one on many fronts. Take good care throughout the rest of the week. It is so good you got some important answers so quickly. Here's to you - an incredibly strong woman!! Hugs to Jason and Oliver too - thinking of all of you. Sending my best,Leslie
Those are but a few of the highlights--the other well wishes, loving thoughts, and sweet sentiments have been passed along to our girl I assure you.
I exchanged lovely emails with Sheila's mom, Gail, and her aunt, Marilyn "Myrt" today as well--if ever you wondered where Sheila got her heart and strength--I know.
I will leave you with this for now~
"Individually we are one drop. Together we are an ocean." Ryunosuke Satoro
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