Brain Tumor Crisis Averted!

I repeat, brain tumor crisis averted! Yep, you heard that one right. For over 2 weeks now, I have had many sleepless nights, butterflies in my stomach, a few grouchy moments and 'Google-itis' (see below):

[goo·guhl·ai·tIs ]  a pathological obsession with internet researching until all hours of the night about (in my case), brain tumors and metastatic cancer to the brain.

So, let me cut to the chase and break it down for you. I began having symptoms and side effects consistent with metastatic brain cancer a few weeks back so my oncologist took me off my new estrogen blocker meds, blah, blah, blah, wanted me to wait it out to see if the headaches diminished and VOILA! They didn't go anywhere.

The conversation that ensued next with my oncologist during my last treatment then went something like this:

ME: Hey, Dr. G., I'm still having those headaches.
DR G: Did you track them over the last couple of weeks?
ME: Yeah.
DR G: And?
ME: I still have them.
DR G: Well, then we need a brain scan to see if your breast cancer has metastasized to your brain and if you have a brain tumor.
ME: (Saying nothing but thinking... Did he just used the words 'brain' and tumor' in the same sentence?)
DR G: OK?
ME: Okaaay. (Insert deafening silence here)

So, fast forward a couple of weeks and one brain scan later, and now a new conversation with Dr. G. over the phone yesterday and....

DR G: Well, we got the results and the good news is that there are no signs of metastatic breast cancer or any brain tumors. But...
ME: (Thinking again...AWESOME!!....uh....what? "But?")
ME: Oh good!  (insert brave voice here)
DR G: But, your brain looks older than your age
ME: (Thinking.... he must mean WISER, not older! Duh.) Ooookaay?
DR G: And...
ME: (Still thinking....And? There's more?)
DR G: There are some white spots that look a little suspicious and might be consistent with MS or a stroke
ME: (Thinking yet again... Who the hell cares about a damn stroke, I don't have a brain tumor!!)
DR G: So, I am calling my best neurologist now (can't for the life of me recall his name - still celebrating in my head about no metastatic cancer and brain tumors!)... so I can get you an appointment with him so he can figure out your headaches and these white spots
ME: Ok! Great! Thanks so much! Bye-Bye!

So there you have it. My celebration of the week. No brain tumors - CHECK. No metastatic cancer - CHECK. White spots - CHECK. Stroke - WHATEVER! MS? - YEAH RIGHT!

In the meantime, enjoy the pics, the video and me on Ativan for the brain scan!

Nighty Night!

Doctor's Check-ups & Check-ins

I suppose one could say that these gowns and doctor's visits are now considered a new hobby of mine. I wear the gowns often and see my surgical team at regular intervals, and according to my journal, I seem to be partaking in this activity way more than any exercise program so far. So, there you have it, an official hobby.

But all new obsessive hobbies must come to an end or at least, taper off as I learned during these two recent surgeon's visits. And only weeks apart, both of my surgical docs (Dr. Grafton - Mastectomy Surgeon & Dr. Soares - Plastic Surgeon) broke the news to me that they didn't need to see me as often. I made every attempt to stay strong and wear my grown-up face, but I'm not sure I pulled it off.

I don't see Dr. Grafton until June and Dr. Soares told me to "just make an appointment some time after you finish your chemo/infusion treatments." WHAT?! I'm getting downgraded to longer stretches of check-ups?!

Yeah, yeah, I know this is great news to you, but what most of you will never understand is just how very much I have come to rely on my surgical peeps. They're my backbone, my personal support group, my sources of inspiration. Now what? Even Hil gasped once we got back in the car. How would Dr. Soares get on with his new iPhone 5 without her technical help?

Well, dare I admit that I will now be forced to seek out an official hobby like swimming, roller-blading, or collecting refrigerator magnets like my sister-in-law? Man, what a brutal transition this is turning out to be.

Any thoughts or suggestions? I think I may need some assistance and reinforcement on this one.

Herceptin #14 Baby!

The drive to my treatments can best be described as the time that I get my 'good juju on!' The routine usually goes like this: silence in the car...turn the phones off...breathe...Hil sings me 'Our Song' (thank you Dave Matthews!)...hold hands and follow it up by doing our 'good intentions!' And for some reason, the guy upstairs always seems to make sure that it's a sunny day, hence my ritualistic phrase, "It's a GREAT DAY for a Herceptin treatment!" Drive. Check.

After seeing my oncologist (luv Dr. G!), I'm escorted into the treatment room by him like he's my own personal chemo valet. To my surprise, I am greeted by my old 'Chemo Mixologist' Amber! Yippee! She's been hitting the books hard and getting her teaching degree (science and math of course) so we haven't seen much of her lately, but let me say that she always lifts my spirits as she brings me my Herceptin cocktail bag on a tray! Luv her too! Treatment. Check

Lastly, Hil and Amber get caught up and swap recent life stories all the while we all ignore the pink-breast-cancer-elephant-in-the-room! And while my veins are being flooded with my cure, this is about the time I doze off and fade into my meds slumber before heading back down the coast to home and bed.

Herceptin #14. Check

Chemo #4: Friends, Love & Nosh!

There's something to be said about getting over the chemo hump and having only 2 more treatments before I'm solely on Herceptin for the next year. It really does put you in a different medical mindset. Couple that with some expected and unexpected visitors and it's a recipe for inspiration and hope. So, here's how my chemo treatment day played out...

First and foremost, we can never show enough gratitude for the chemo, oncology staff. These people work themselves silly and walk way beyond those 10,000 recommended pedometer steps each day all the while smiling, joking and laughing. That's why this bag of treats for them came with a big dose of gratitude, a 'double delight' rose from my cousin's garden in Monterey and a bag full of fresh cherries. THANK YOU to my amazing team of peeps at the Cancer Center of Santa Barbara.

My second 'double delight' of the day was both a planned and a surprise visit from good friends Sydney (AKA,  'Breast Cancer Survivor Rock Star') and Julie (AKA 'Julie- Bunny').  Sydney took a quick break from her baby-delivery job up the street at Cottage Hospital to come down and sit with me while Julie was bringing her mom Zeb in for yet another  follow-up appointment with our great oncologist 'Dr. G.' What a fun, spontaneous visit with these gals that unfortunately know first hand the ride that breast cancer has taken us all on over the past couple of years. 

Enter Zeb, 'Julie-Bunny's' mom who popped in to snap a quick pic with Sydney and myself for an official pose as the 'Greenwald Girls' - Dr. G's crew of gals that he has seen over the past months and years. Boy do we gals have some stories to tell, but most importantly, we share the common mindset of moving forward as breast cancer warriors.  We've all sat in this room for hours on end and yet we know there's more to life than meds, chemo, surgeries and baldness. Hey, sounds like a rap song to me!

Zeb and I comparing our 'domes'  as I told her that I hope my hair comes in as hip and cute as hers come August or September. We both decided that we'd like to rock the short hair 'do' for a while as neither one of us has never done before. Why not? Life is short and so is our hair.

P.S. I've been bogarting this chemo chair each time I come in for my treatments. It's the same one Zeb sat in for hers and that brings me some comfort;  although her grandson still doesn't understand 'Why Yog is there now' and sitting in 'Grandma's chair' but I still do it. The nurses know it and it's all ready for me when I walk in each time.

One of my favorite moments of the day was with Julie-Bunny who is always up for some fun! We started to take a picture together when I said "Hey, can I try on some of your hair?" And of course, she was all over that photo op. We did a few takes and she even styled this one so that it 'draped my face' a little. What a blast!
Even more special has been Julie's never-ending support and love that dates back years when we worked together as speech therapists in a private clinic in Santa Barbara to today. The fun and friendship hasn't stopped since then.
Fast forward 3 kids, 2 breast cancer diagnosis for her mom and now my run with my 3rd BC, she's been there for both Hil and I every step of the way. Love, Love, Love our Julie-Bunny!

Oh Angela (AKA - 'My Angela' ).Yet another volunteer to come sit with me to give Hil a break during her own busy day of kids, work training, preparing for her honemoon, you name it. We just met back in December in one of my doctor's offices and have become fast friends. She makes us laugh beyond laugh and we never seem to run out of crazy, funny stories to tell. She's just so very uplifting and did I mention hilarious! She joined us for a patio 'chemoluncheon' outside the chemo room and even threatened to do a pole dance on my chemo med pole for my dining pleasure and entertainment. Hey, no doubting people, I know she'll do it! I just didn't know if I can take all that laughter while being infused with chemo drugs at the same time. But seriously, many thanks for the visit from our new gal-pal.

Last, but NOT least, is my fave chemo nurse Martha. Always wearing this smile while running between patients and "Hey Martha..." requests - this gal is a bundle of energy and love! I can't even find the right words to describe her dedication, kindness and skillfulness as a nurse. She knows her stuff, does it well all the while telling funny stories from her paddle-boarding escapades to her children.
In the meantime, she's always wanting to know what's going on with us with a wonderful listening ear and an open heart. She's her own 'double-delight' rose in my book and I'm grateful to know I will have the pleasure of seeing her over this next year of treatment in the chemo room.  

Expansions #2 & #3: Really?!

Dr. Soares & the 'Magnet Port Stud Finder'

My inner Sagittarius decided to combine these previously two separate posts into one, because quite frankly, it's pretty much the same gig. Or do I mean gag - because this is most definitely a joke gone bad. And since the saline expansion process is such oodles of fun, why relive these patient pilgrimages twice?

Feeling like a VooDoo doll experiment from a 1970's slumber party, I headed into my plastic surgeon's office in Santa Barbara on Monday with my hopeful and ritualistic frame of mind in tact (AKA, Nervous-Nelly Mentality). Sleek yoga attire-check. Meditation-check. Word inspiration of the day ('calm')-check. Half a valium-check. Film crew/chauffeur (AKA, Hil)-check.

I arrived and walked through that office door with my brave-patient-attitude and ended up waiting for 45 minutes in the waiting room due to the backlog of cancer patients flooding into the office. All at different stages from pre-op to post-op and saline fill-ups to post-mastectomy graduates, I watched the patients roll in and out like a ping-pong match. As for me, I'm halfway through my journey yet not new to the breast cancer arena all the while starting to nod off due to the now, poorly timed valium I took on the drive up from Ventura.

Finally, the nurse took me back to the room to prep me for my bi-monthly 'fill-up' and proceeded to talk my ears off for at least 20 minutes before the doctor came in.  I did my usual peruse of the room through squinted eyes at what I've previously tried to avoid - the metal tray. Syringe-check. Three inch needle-check. Pictures of my old breasts-check.

As I'm directed to sit in the reclining patient chair, in walks my sweet plastic surgeon with his usual smile on his face like we're heading into a fun cocktail party. Yet again, I cannot find the mini-bar in the room that I desperately need as that damn valium is all but out of my system now as evidenced by my renewed nerves.

140cc's later, I felt as if I had two new water balloons inserted into these bad-a$$ expanders. "Are you full?" he keeps asking me through his serious doctor expression. As always and through my bubbly grin, I say an emphatic 'YES!' and act like I can handle it like a champion cancer survivor. But underneath it all I can't help but ponder - 'me thinks this ain't so fun here in Cancerland.'

And then the surrealness of it all hits me as I smile, say my goodbyes and shuffle back out to the car while thinking that I can hardly believe the reality show that I've been dropped into the middle of. Trying desperately to distract myself, I read the Facebook newsfeed on my iPad about how my friends are going on beautiful bike rides, hitting top-notch concerts and sharing travel pics from around the globe. All the while, I'm holding and massaging my new water balloons in the hopes of relieving the fullness on the 45 minute drive back down the coast to Ventura. But by the time we pull into the garage I can barely get out of the car due to my newfound pain!

The past two expansions went fine but that night, I found myself asking what the hell just happened with this expansion and final fill? The 'overfill' as I've heard it called, is supposed to give the final implants the proper room and space. But, it just doesn't feel right and the memories of that night 7 weeks earlier starts flashing in my mind. Is it supposed to hurt like this? Are 'they' too full? Should 'they' feel this hard? Can 'they' explode? Someone, please answer my urgent line of questioning!

Well, as you can imagine, the evening didn't go as expected or planned. After attempting to eat left handed downstairs, I was finally hand fed until I was fed up. Shuffling my way upstairs to bed at 6:45, all I wanted to do was to lie down with a box of kleenex. I couldn't get in or out of bed by myself and was moving like I was 2 weeks post-mastectomy and 98 years old. So, we examine the bedroom tray of meds to decide what might help me through my Monday night misery. We pull out the big guns and hit the pain pill reserves and Voila! - we settle on a pain relieving cocktail (thank you leftover Norco!).

Eight hours later and two slightly settled water balloons, I woke up able to get out of bed with only a little assistance as the pain was on it's way back down from being the 10+ level of agony it was the night before. And, glimpses of my previous hopeful attitude began to show up again as the light at the end of the very dark tunnel was finally lightening up.

So, even though I've missed a full week of work, I'll suppose I'll just chalk this up to a blip on the cancer radar screen. Next plastic surgeon post: 'The Implants are In!'

One could only hope.

ART EXHIBIT: Tumors, Estrogen & Herceptin - OH MY!

Title:  Herceptin Fed Tumors

Medium: Bic Pen & Copy Paper

Artist: Dr. Sara Hurvitz, UCLA Oncologist

Price: My Health & a Long Life

UCLA & 2nd Opinions

To say that I was anxious about my 2nd opinion UCLA Oncology appointment today in Santa Monica would be a gross understatement. And in an attempt to diminish the butterflies flitting and fleeting around in my gut, we left early, drove down our beautiful coast on PCH and had a car picnic on the way. But the news of finding out whether or not I need chemo was about to become a reality and those butterflies in my stomach promptly returned.

SCREEEEECH!!!! (Insert loud car breaks here!).

That's right. All that anxiety for nothing! Ok, well not nothing, but holy-health Batman! I got myself all worked up for the news about chemo and ended up leaving without an answer, yet AGAIN!

To begin with, I got the same greeting from my 2nd opinion doc that I get from all the other docs. Enter, Dr. Sara Hurvitz, Breast Cancer Oncologist, UCLA. "Hi, my name is Sara. Boy, don't you just love your complicated case?"

Doesn't anyone ever say 'How are you?' anymore?

Anyhoo, Dr. Hurvitz turned out to be a rockstar doc and the appointment with this genius, cutting-edge-oncologist turned out to be a good thing even though the chemo treatment in question is still lingering. She drew a clever and picturesque cancer tumor cell with simplistic yet detailed information, in order to determine whether or not my body needs chemo. And may I say, it really explained quite a bit! Not only was her tumor drawing stellar, but her penmanship was quite impressive.

Bottom line, more testing needs to be done which now involves THE founder of the HER2/neu test who just also happens to be Dr. Hurvitz' colleague at USC. Now, all I need to do is...brace yourselves....FedEx the HER2 guru, my mastectomy tissue samples that are apparently preserved in their own wax museum in a pathology lab in Santa Barbara. Little did I know that they kept such specimens on hand.

Soooo, another week of waiting it is.


FYI: What is the HER2/neu Test? (Human Epidermal Growth Factor Receptor 2). HER2 positive breast cancer is a breast cancer that tests positive for a protein called human epidermal growth factor receptor 2 (HER2), which promotes the growth of cancer cells. HER2-positive breast cancers tend to be more aggressive than other types of breast cancer. Routine testing for HER2 is recommended for most women diagnosed with breast cancer because the results may affect treatment recommendations and decisions such as chemo. (Mayo Clinic)

Hey Chemo! I Need a Decision Here!

I'm a 3rd primary, post DCIS (twice), Stage II, ER positive, PR positive, BRCA 1 & 2 negative, lymph node negative, HER2 negative, post double mastectomy, Oncotype DX recurrence score 22, breast cancer survivor. BUT, the jury is still out on chemo.

So, we're heading down to UCLA in the next couple of weeks for an appointment with one of the country's top 20 leading breast cancer oncology experts at the recommendation of my oncologist, for a final verdict on my Onecotype test results and chemo.

Just in case you were wondering.

R is for Reconstruction

To say that my pain hit an all time high this past week would be an understatement. But without going into great detail, let's suffice it to say that the breast expanders for reconstruction that were inserted during the mastectomy surgery about brought me to my knees last Wednesday night. They serve a very important purpose and will for the next three months in preparation for the permanent implants; but before they come out, I've got to learn to befriend these things. However, staying up all night because of excruciating pain brought me to an all time low and I knew something wasn't right. Panic set in, the tears wouldn't stop and the pain was going nowhere but up. I had been told to go cold turkey on my pain meds by a nurse and manage the discomfort with Tylenol as this was typical protocol at this point in the game, but it wasn't touching my misery. The next day, Hil talked with both surgeons who saw me and decided that I was a tad too inflated. So, after having 180cc's drained, I was able to handle life again. Now my mission is to prep myself mentally and physically for three months of 'expanding' these things and my muscles before the final surgery in April. Cross your fingers and wish me luck because this is no pony ride!

3rd Surgeon Visit

Prepping iPad for recording, looking at stats & cancer cell drawings

courtesy surgeon #1

On the tail-end of great news, we drove down the street and went to my 3rd visit to, well, let's simply call him, 'Surgeon #1.' Post biopsies, post diagnosis, pre-planning for what's next. Two hours later, I was confused as ever with the multitude of possible options that are all heavily weighing on lymph node biopsies, additional genetic testing, blah, blah, blah. The good news is that 'Surgeon #1' is taking my case to the Santa Barbara Tumor Board this week to get more input from fellow breast cancer docs and specialists as my 'case is a bit puzzling.' So, we'll see what comes of that. In the meantime, I have a second surgical opinion appointment next week, an appointment this Thursday with an oncologist (pulled in a favor for that one) and an appointment with a plastic surgeon to discuss reconstruction on Friday. Somebody get me a cocktail STAT!