It's Rex Manning Day!

Ever since I saw Empire Records, whenever a day I've been looking forward to finally arrives, I run around all morning thinking, "It's Rex Manning Daaaaaay!"  

Incidentally, the scene in Empire Records where Robin Tunney shaves her head inspired my BFF, Sara, to shave her head when we were 20. I remember thinking she was so cool and brave, knowing I'd never have the guts to do something like that- at least not voluntarily. Looks like I'll be channeling my inner Robin and Sara soon. ALTHOUGH, I read that 10% of people don't lose their hair. Fingers crossed?

While we're on the subject, I'll just give a quick update on all that other stuff. I found out on Friday my bone and CT scans came back all clear so it hasn't spread past the lymph nodes under my arm. (yay!) They did find two more small tumors 1.1 centimeters each that are about 1 cm below the two big guys, but no one is concerned because if the chemo doesn't kill them, they're close enough to be scooped out when the surgeon gets all up in there in May. 

I think that means I'm either in stage IIB or IIIA. They hadn't yet determined the stage because they were waiting until the scans came back to rule out stage IV. A nurse called with the results, not a doctor, so she couldn't tell me. I'm not that worried about it because they said in my case the kind of cancer is more important than the stage (remember how I explained its subpar IQ?), but I still want to know. I did some googling and here's what I think: I have 4 tumors. Two are over 3 centimeters and two are just over 1 centimeter, and it's metastatic- in at least 2 lymph nodes. Stage IIB has three different sets of criteria. The one that could apply to me is "1-3 lymph nodes are involved with a tumor between 2-5 centimeters." The IIIA criteria that could apply to me is "lymph node involvement with a tumor over 5 centimeters." I don't know if it's stage II since they're all under 5cm, OR if 4 tumors at 3cm+3cm+1cm+1cm = more than 5cm, which would mean it's stage III. Did you follow that? Whatever. It doesn't matter. Either way it's getting murdered. 

Sunday was pretty hectic. I was too excited for eating, but stood in the kitchen and force fed myself an apple with almond butter. I was too excited to sit still, but forced myself to pray and meditate before I ran out (never leave home without it!) to pick up my flowers, and some bagels and cream cheese for all the awesome people helping us. The flowers were a bit bigger than I had asked for and filled with ferns and leaves and what looked like dill, which I hadn't asked for. ("...small, like this big."  <<holds hands about 6" apart>>  "...round shaped, no green. Just white or light colored flowers."  <<googles pictures online and shows florist>>) What I got was a somewhat large bouquet about 12", not round, with a whole lot of green shooting out the middle and spilling out of the sides. I didn't really have time to complain and in all fairness, I only gave the guy about 6 hours notice, so I took my giant bridal bouquet, got the bagels and ran home to meet Maddy, makeup artist extraordinaire, who was patiently waiting for me out on my front steps. 

Turns out, aside from being a great makeup artist, generous friend, and all around awesome lady, Maddy also used to work for a florist. She went to town on the monstrous green abomination (Okay, I'm exaggerating. It wasn't that bad.) and turned it into a beautiful, cute little bouquet. Then, she did my makeup. My hairstylist friend showed up right on time and did an amazing job. "After" pics are here and here. I felt like a supermodel. They left me with tips and tools for touch ups, hugs, and "good lucks." Next step was THE DRESS. I tried to put it on myself last week and quickly realized it is not a one person job. My friend H agreed to come over early to help me with it and to stay with us all day. She is an angel. I don't know what I would have done without her. To begin with, this never would have gotten done, but that was just the beginning of what she did for us. She helped me put on my shoes, fix my hair, make sure my fleece leggings were hidden from the camera (I had to wear them. It was SO cold out- 46 degrees and windy with a "real feel" of 34), carried all of our stuff, put on my veil, held onto our coats for the outside shots, ran our coats back to us in between shots so we wouldn't freeze to death, lent David her gloves, and helped me zipper my coat up because by the end- we called it after an hour- I was so cold my fingers were no longer working. She also took some pictures with her iPhone so we got some sneak peeks. I put a few up on the picture page. 

Sooooo if you're susceptible to eye-rolling, stop reading now and go look at pictures. If you're down for sappy stuff, please continue...

I have no words for how magical- really. I know it's a cheesy word, but it applies here, so I'm sticking to it- how magical Sunday was. So many people came together to help us. I cannot thank my friends enough, or all the shops that rushed things for us, or Tom at Mosaic, who was so, so accommodating; our photographer Denis Gostev, who spent way more time with us than the allotted two hours and wore 3 layers of clothing so we could shoot outside because he understood how important this day was to us; and of course, David, who also understood how important it was to me that our wedding pictures won't have to come with a disclaimer about why my chest is scarred, and why I look like Annie Lenox - that as vain as it may sound, having those pictures makes losing my hair almost bearable. I can't wait to see the final pictures. I can't wait until our actual wedding day. I can't wait until this is all over. I felt like a princess Sunday and went to bed feeling so filled with joy and gratitude that I briefly forgot about the monster growing in my breast and what I would be facing in the week ahead. It was a much needed respite from the dread and fear I've been feeling. It was a perfect day. 

Testing 1...2...3

Tests are officially done! Last night I had an echocardiogram. It was uncomfortable and at times I thought maybe the technician was aiming to break a rib, but it only took 35 minutes. During the test, there were little snippets of sound where I'd hear my heart beat for a few rounds. I don't know why- I know it always beats- but to hear it so clearly felt reassuring and comforting. Like it was saying, "Don't worry, babe. I still got you. I'm still going." And I was like, "Thanks, little guy. You keep doing that." Then, I loudly and passive-aggressively said, "At least SOMEone is doing what they're supposed to," while angrily glaring at my right breast. No. No. Just kidding. I didn't do that last part.

Onto wedding news! I spoke with a caterer on Tuesday. We're on round 2 of menu decisions and price negotiations with her. David had the first conversation, so we're tag teaming this one. I like her. I feel like she listens to what we want and takes pride in her food. She has some great suggestions, and has worked at our venue before. I think we've already made the decision and now we're just ironing out details. I think that's all the really big stuff. Venue, DJ, caterer, photographer. Yay! 

Speaking of photographer, Denis emailed last night and said he has some ideas for Sunday. I'm excited to hear them. He used to live in Astoria and has shot around here a lot. We also heard back from Mosaic, a bar in the neighborhood with a gorgeous decor. They said we could use the place Sunday between 12 and 3 for free! For my hair, a friend from the neighborhood who is a professional hair stylist agreed to help me Sunday. The same friend who came with me to chemo boot camp yesterday is going to help me with my makeup. We're going to do a practice run tomorrow. David's Bridal is steaming my dress and veil. That will be done by Saturday. And David called a local suit shop and explained to them the situation. They are pulling a couple of grey suits in his size. He's going in tomorrow for a fitting and they'll have it ready on Saturday. I am overwhelmed with how kind everyone is being. I can barely handle this kind of generosity. 

I haven't even really gotten started yet and I'm already moved by the people around me. It sounds crazy, but in a way, I can be grateful for this experience because of these small surprises. I am eager and open to see what I can learn from this. I've spoken with a few friends about this already. I don't know the end game. I don't know what will happen. I do know that my life is already changed. I can see that I am already learning how to depend on people and ask for help. Maybe I will learn to slow down. Maybe my priorities will be reordered. Maybe this will deepen my relationships with the people around me, my family, and David. I hope it will bring me closer to God than I ever thought possible. It is already bringing my families together. I watch David and my mother interact in our small apartment and I am so grateful for this opportunity for them to really get to know each other. David's mother called my mother and they talked about how they could both be there for us. David's mother texts and calls to check in on me. It's like a fast track to family. Relationships that could have taken several awkward Thanksgivings to solidify already feel warm and comfortable and loving. I can't wait to see who else comes into my life because of this. I've already met amazing new people. I know there will be more. I can't wait to see what I'll learn about myself, and the things I'll have to unlearn because they'll no longer be true. And I'm sure there's more I can't even think of, can't even fathom.

I'm not saying I'm not scared. I'm not saying I'm happy it's happening, but I bet a lot of good things will come out of this that otherwise never would have come about. When I finally, truly understood what it meant that I could not drink alcohol safely, could not control my drinking anymore, I thought it meant my life was over. I thought I'd never be happy again. And the last time I had my heart broken, I thought I'd never be able to love anyone again- was convinced I'd spend the rest of my life alone. They were these huge moments in my life that I thought would forever define me and bury me. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life missing out and lonely. But, I was blessed enough to have a spark in me- that I now know to be God- that woke me up and turned these "bad" things into blessings I wouldn't change for anything in the world. They cleared a path that led me to a life I couldn't have imagined on my own. And I have faith. I know the same spark will be ignited by this new challenge. So yes, I'm really, really scared about what happens next, and I'm sure there will be moments when I change my mind and cry my eyes out (like the day my hair falls out), but I believe with all my heart that when this is over, the people close to me and I will be better for it. I can find a lot of gratitude in that. 

Welcome to the New Age

Today, I'm at the imaging center getting a bone scan and CT scans. They just injected me. I'm radioactive!  (...radioactive. Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive) So now I sit here and wait for 2 hours. In the meantime, they gave me a jug of what I'm pretty sure is just tropical peach Kool Aid. I'm drinking a cup every 10 mins. I haven't had sugar or a sugar substitute, not even fruit juice, in 5 weeks. I bet when I die, this is what heaven tastes like. 

On Tuesday, I met with the last doctor for a final opinion. She was reassuring. She basically said the kind of cancer I have is well known and has a "gold standard" that will be treated the same no matter where I go. I'm in NYC. I'd be in good hands at any of the big centers here- Sloan Kettering, Weill-Cornell, Columbia, etc. They're all excellent. They all know each other, have worked together, or have trained together. She personally knows the first doctor I met with and says she's a fantastic oncologist. She said she would not be offended if I go elsewhere. It's not like that. It's not a competition. It's just important that I feel comfortable. She's even willing to be a consultant if I have any questions or second guessing during treatment. It was such a relief to hear that. I had been so nervous about making the wrong decision, but she made me feel like I can't go wrong. I decided to go with team I started working with and where I had already begun all my testing. I have a plan. We're getting started and it feels the ship left the dock. I'm on it for the ride now. 

Yesterday, I went to "chemo education" with my new BFF, Nurse Nicole. She went over everything in detail; what to expect, meds I'll be on, foods to avoid, tips on how to calm down nausea. I feel armed with information. My friend and co-worker came with me so I had a second set of ears and some support.

I have an amazing crew at my office. We are a smallish visual marketing company in Manhattan. I've been the Director of Operations there for 6 years. My boss is one of my best friends and for the last 3 weeks the only thing she's shown concern for regarding my job is my health. I can call each of my co-workers a friend also. Everyone has been so helpful and accommodating. I am so lucky I have them. I truly love them and yes, even look forward to going in on most days. Seriously, I'm the luckiest girl alive. BF (boss friend) is going to set up my personal computer with access to our server so I can work from home throughout all this as needed. I can't think of a better situation. I love what I do. Some might say a little too much. The idea of not working for 5 months sounded like torture. I suppose this little interruption could be a good way to teach me moderation at my job. It is a pretty stressful environment at times. Maybe a forced lesson in temperance is not so bad. 

Oh they just called me in! I'll finish up later. I have to tell you about the caterer and how plans for Sunday are coming along. Byeeeeee! 

 

 

 

 

 

Triple Positive

I had a great weekend. Saturday night was fun. We went to a Japanese tapas restaurant to celebrate a friend's five year soberversary. I checked the menu ahead of time to see what I could eat. There were only two tapas that fit into my diet. I made sure to eat a little ahead of time, so I wouldn't be anxious or starving. And then ordered those two dishes, ate from them, and politely passed on everything else that came around the table. There were lots of good conversations, lots of laughing. It was just what I needed and it felt good to show up for my friend and celebrate despite all of this other stuff on my mind. 

Sunday was pretty lazy. There was a minor hissy fit in the parking lot of the grocery store. I threw a little pity party for myself, lamenting all the foods I can no longer eat. It ended with something along the lines of, "I don't want to go shopping. I hate food. I'm never eating again." David suggested he go shopping for us while I sit in the car and make some phone calls, perhaps to my Spiritual Person ONSpecific Organized  Religion. I grudgingly agreed because I hate it when he's a responsible grownup and I'm fully aware that I am acting like a 6 year old. So he went inside and I called my S.P.O.N.S.O.R. and a few other people. I was back to rational by the time he came back with bags of delicious alkaline friendly foods that were not all broccoli and kale <<shudder>>. Turns out, David, being the incredible man he is, actually did some research and found that there are LOTS of good things (not just gross vegetables!) that I can eat, like dates, and hazelnuts, and dried banana chips, and zucchini spirals in tomato sauce (almost pasta!). If this man still marries me after this cancer stuff is over, he's either a saint or insane- possibly both. 

After putting away groceries, I walked over to my friend's place. We just met Labor Day weekend on a women's spiritual yoga camping trip that was hosted by The Giving Tree, a yoga studio here in Astoria. The studio will also require a back story. For now, I'll tell you that it is owned by a beautiful couple who bring so much light and love to our community. We've actually asked them to marry us. I'm very excited that they'll be a part of our wedding. They are truly good people. Anyway, back to my new friend! She and I hit it off immediately and have been making it a point to stay in touch. She also happens to sell doTERRA essential oils*. So I met with her to go over how to use the oils and she gave me some samples with instructions. It was a good excuse to catch up and now I feel armed with natural cancer killers. (*Last week, my older sister, LL, told me I should start diffusing oils and to find someone who can sell me that specific brand because they are 100% pure and chemicals are not used in the process of extracting oils from plants. LL is a huge proponent of natural remedies. She's been texting tips and suggestions. She's also been making organic soups and sending them up with my mother when she visits.) 

My mom came up again Sunday night to stay for a couple of days and to go to appointments with me. She brought my wedding dress with her 😁 (and also more LL soup). David and I decided that since I'll have to do chemo, we're going to have some formal wedding pictures taken before the port goes in and while I still have all my hair. We contacted our photographer and he was very accommodating. Looks like on Sunday, we'll be getting all dolled up for a little pre-wedding photo shoot! I'm SO excited. 

I saw two more doctors today. Everyone agrees chemo first. I should be starting by midweek next week or right after Thanksgiving. The oncologist said within 10 days, 2 weeks at most. The good news is that I have triple positive cancer, which is one of the easiest to beat. It's got 3 different positive receptors which means it responds to lots of different treatment. My understanding is that it is basically really dumb cancer and answers the door when strangers come. So, when chemo knocks, it'll open the door and be like, "oh hi! Come on in and kill me!" Ha! Stupid cancer. My cancer at stage 3 is easier to beat than basal cell at stage 1. This is very good news. I still haven't had a CT or PET scan but the doctors both agreed that I very likely do not have it anywhere else because there are no other symptoms and we caught it really early. AND even if it did spread, this type of cancer responds so well to chemo that it wouldn't matter. It will be eradicated. 

I have one more doctor to meet Tuesday, but I think we're settling on a plan. 20 weeks of chemo followed by surgery 3 weeks after that. The extent of surgery will be decided by post-chemo MRI and mammogram, and also by the results of the genetic tests. 

Aaaaand that's all I have for now! Tomorrow afternoon, I'll meet the last doctor. Tomorrow night, I have a phone call scheduled with the caterer that we're probably going with. Before Sunday, I need to get my dress and veil steamed, find shoes, decide on whether or not I want professionals to do my hair and makeup for the pictures (yes, right? I don't know), and if yes, find them and book them. It's going to be a fun week! 

Uplifting Ladies

The MRI on Friday wasn't nearly as terrifying as I remember them being. The last time I had one was for chronic migraines and I recall 45 mins of me trying to breathe and talk myself down from panic. It was before I was sober and had no handle on rampant paranoia. The times I wasn't squelching a full on freak out, I was sizing up the technician- trying to figure what type of man he was. If there were a sudden earthquake or bomb, would he be the kind of person who'd run in and get me out of the death tube or would he immediately bolt to save himself, leaving me to be crushed, dying a slow painful death alone. These are the type of things that occupied most of my brain before I found sobriety. 

But these days, I have mental tools to handle that stuff, and people to call when I can't handle it. My incredible fiancé brought me back to normal over the phone a few minutes before I went in. On his suggestion, I closed my eyes and began to meditate as soon as they rolled me in, incorporating all the crazy clicks and hums into my prayers, pretending the claustrophobic terror tube was God hugging me, and I didn't stop until they slid me out. 

We'll get results Monday when I go in to meet the oncologist. 

After a brief stop off at the office on the way back to Astoria, I went to a friend's house and had some dinner with a few of my favorite sober ladies. It was potluck. I'm trying very hard to stay as alkaline as possible so my diet is really strict and difficult to accommodate. Ahead of time, I mentioned it'd be difficult to feed me because blah, blah, blah and not to worry about it. I'd bring something I can eat and enough to share. Of course, these incredible ladies made sure to cook and bring alkaline foods I can eat. There was fresh fruit, a really yummy soup, and a salad that my friend made with an alkaline dressing recipe she found online. I love these girls.

In moments like these, I have to stop and soak in how freaking lucky I am to have this community around me. Every day since I broke the news, I've received texts, phone calls, and emails from friends and family checking in to see how I am, how David is, and if we need anything. I am so grateful for the people around me. It literally brings me to tears. (I am SUPER emotional these days.) I feel so supported, so loved, so taken care of, and so not alone. There are no words for the gratitude I have. 

Tonight, I'm having dinner with another group of gals. Looking forward to getting dressed up and feeling normal :)