D-Day, One Year Later

One Year Ago. Yep, one year ago today was the day I was "officially" diagnosed with cancer. Now, you'd think that would be a big deal and I'd remember it all so clearly and horrifyingly. But actually, I was at my desk at work, quietly working away, when the good and great Dr. Karam called and said "It is what we thought is was." Which is easier to hear than "you have cancer" (I actually don't think he ever said those words...gee, do you think this has all been a giant misunderstanding??).

A few days before he had answered my "you seem to be acting as those this is definitely cancer" inquiry with "it walks like a duck and talks like a duck..." So when he said "it is what we thought it was," I said, "It's a duck?"

And he laughed and said, "It's invasive ductal carcinoma."

Duck, ductal...close enough. (I made a joke about his accent being stronger than I thought it was. Yeah, I'm like that.) Then I called Chris to let him know, since it meant we'd be going back to UCLA the next day for an MRI, and then I went back to work.  I don't think I even mentioned it to my assistant that day (but I might have; I tell her everything).

I think that I was just really well prepared for the diagnosis and the upcoming treatment. Well, as prepared as one can be. Dr. Karam had done a great job of leading gently but firmly to what would be going on and Chris and I had talked enough to figure out how we'd handle this. And, of course, I'd been through this once before with Seamus. And he lived. (The Dog Lived. And so did I. Remember?)

This last weekend, Seamus and I went with a friend and her dog (Judy and Champ, respectively) on a walk/hike to the top of Mt. Rubidoux (see photo).  A beautiful 3 mile walk. I was amazed I could do it. I not only did it, I enjoyed it and have plans to go again this Saturday. Call it a victory lap.

P.S. Here's how well the dog is living...yesterday our friends dropped off their dog Harold for us to dog-sit for a few days while they're off on a cruise. Seamus managed to grab the bag that held one week of Harolds food plus a few Greenie chew treats. He pulled it down off the counter and proceeded to eat about 1/4 of the bag and several Greenies. Then he coughed and choked and looked miserable, so Chris picked up both dogs and rushed to our vet. By then, naturally, Seamus was acting fine. So $50 lighter, Chris returned home with the dogs. Seamus's belly looks like a python that swallowed a meerkat and he's burpy and gassy, but he'll recover. He just didn't get dinner last night and isn't terribly interested in breakfast this morning.

Another Anniversary

This time-- January 8-- last year we were headed into UCLA Medical Center, ultrasound and mammogram reports in hand, to see the good and great Dr. Karam for the first time. Of course, we didn't know he was the "good and great" just then. That took a few minutes after meeting him.

This time last year I did not know definitively yet that I had breast cancer. That took a few minutes after meeting him. (Okay, it still wasn't said definitively to me yet--that took a few days--but he knew.)

This time last year was a very stressful time. And  a strange time. And an overwhelming time. And I remember actually, very little about it. I hadn't even started the blog then, so I don't have that to remind me either. I supposed I was a little numb, a little on auto-pilot (I get like that--very focused on "what's the problem and how do we fix it immediately").

I have a friend going through this very same thing right now, and she had an appointment with the good and great Dr. Karam yesterday (she also thinks he's good and great). Talking with her has made me reflect back on this cancer odyssey a bit. Wow, does it all seem like a long, long time ago. I think that's good though, right?

I go back to UCLA January 14th for my 6 month check-up (another mammogram, back to Dr. Glaspy the oncologist, the annual "woman" exam--which was delayed because apparently post-chemo you get funny results, so you have to wait a bit). Funny, January 12 was my "official" diagnosis day last year and January 13th was the MRI. I guess January is just my UCLA month.

UCLA did send me an anniversary gift last week. A bill for $480 (supposedly my share after insurance) from the biopsy on January 9 last year. Gee, thanks. I guess paper is the appropriate 1st anniversary gift.

P.S. I've mentioned to you how other BC bloggers tend to be much more uplifting and positive and eloquent than me the cancer dork (I might just be the Cancer Crab! But don't get me wrong, it's not like I was Mary Poppins before all this.). Here's two posts to show you what I mean. Both of these women have actually been through much more than me...and wow, what spirit they have! With deep admiration, I give you:

Stephanie at Bah to Cancer

and

Deborah at Love, Cancer, etc.

One Year Ago (the BC anniversaries begin)

One year ago today I was sitting in my doctor's office because I felt a strange thickening, lump-ish sort of thing in my right breast. And the physician's assistant said, "I don't like this one bit." So began my breast cancer odyssey.

This year, I'm cancer free, relaxing in Hawaii with the one I love--the one who saw me every step of the way through this-- and enjoying the view. This year, I could marvel at mother nature in an entirely different way.

 

(First photo is from our hotel room balcony--Chris is out there right now. Second photo is from the lava boat tour we took last night. Yeah, that's lava pouring in to the sea. Amazing.)

You'll understand if this is a short post, right?

Aloha.

An Angels Anniversary (it was all A's)

Be warned--if you are looking for some sad, crazy, or even funny cancer treatment story you've got the wrong blog today. Yeah, sure, this is a blog about my cancer "odyssey" but I took the day off from cancer. Instead, it's a happy little post about Chris and me celebrating our five year anniversary. June 12, 2004 was our first date--at an Angels game. So, June 12, 2009 found us back in the Diamond Club at an Angels game (that's why we are dressed alike. We don't normally do that. I promise. And wow, isn't Chris great at those arm in the air self-photos?) You can tell it was a special occasion because I'm in drag (hair and eyelashes! This was big!)

Our first date was a lot of fun (yeah, um, that's why we kept dating) and it also marks the anniversary of me learning the term "cougar." (I've now perfected my knowledge. Ahem.) There were a pair of cougars in the seats in front of us at that first game. This time, there was a family of four (note back of heads; ladies--do not do this to your hair. And this is coming from a woman who has no hair). Both times however, there were obnoxious drunk guys behind us. Ah, public sporting events. But the Angels were kind enough to win for us, and Angels Stadium set off a bunch of fireworks--just for us, we're sure. I like these times when I get to return to normal, however briefly. And nothing says normal like bad dye jobs, drunk guys and fireworks at a baseball game. I may have been a little more tired than normal, and "in drag" but it was a great night out with a fantastic man who doesn't care if I'm in drag, or bald or fighting cancer, or cranky, or any of those things I've been in the last several months. Which is why mostly what I've been for the last five years is lucky.

Oh, and Chris didn't even mind that for the second time in 5 days a stranger came up to him and commented that he looked like Jay Leno. He didn't even mind when drunk Angels fan asked him to do a Jay Leno impression (yes, he did it and yes, it's very good). When his hair is long, people think he looks like Jay Leno. When it's short, Vince Gill. You decide. To me, he's all Chris. And all mine. ;-)