The Tattooed Lady

So.  Today, at the age of 59, I got my very first tattoo.

See if you can guess what it is:

This?

No?  How about this?

Hmmm…what about this charmer?

Ok, I’ll tell you….TA DA:

It’s that little black dot in the middle.  There are three others as well, but I can’t show you those because they include naughty bits.  They are the markers for my radiation treatment, which will probably begin next week.  I have too many co-morbitities to be a candidate for chemo, so we are hoping radiation, along with hormone therapy afterwards, will eradicate any errant cancer cells.  I will have a treatment every day, five days a week, for over six weeks.

In an icy cold MRI room, on a hard plastic table, I was set up for the procedures I will receive.  My arm was held over my head in a brace and I have to keep my head turned as far to the right as possible to avoid irradiating my face.  The area that was measured and marked off is relatively large, to include the lymph nodes in my neck and armpit.   Holding still for over a half an hour, my muscles started to spasm and then I was tattooed so the radiation can be aimed at the exact same spot each time.  Lying there, I had a few tearful moments as I was overwhelmed by the enormity of what was happening.  I still cannot believe I have cancer.   Oh, and we’re still pursuing the whole spot-on-the-liver thing, I have to go for another MRI next week.  I am just so weary of being a sick person.

I have to say, though, everyone at the Radiation Oncology Center was kind, pleasant and helpful.  My doctor is relaxed and friendly, he reminded me of B.D. Wong, except he is Korean, not Chinese.  He was incredibly reassuring and empathetic.

Who knows, maybe when all this is over I will treat myself to a new tattoo.  One of these would be my cup of tea.

My new theme song:

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From the Deep End

It has been a rough couple of months.  And, as usual, my unhealthy coping mechanism is going to ground.

But writing this blog has been one of the most fun and rewarding things I have ever done and is definitely something I am not giving up on.  I have been jotting down a few ideas for posts and as I feel better I will work them up and get them on line.

I had the surgery to remove the malignant tumor from my breast last week and followed up with my surgeon yesterday.  I cannot say enough good things about her.  The first surgeon I saw had me frantic with fear due to my complicated medical history.  When I met with Dr. C. for a second opinion, her down to earth, direct manner was instantly reassuring.  She was frank about concerns over potential problems, but expressed confidence in managing them.   At the hospital for the surgery, I continued to be just bowled over by her easy going presence.  She was relaxed and cheerful and hands on, no chore was beneath her.  She even helped out pushing my bed to the OR, rather than waiting for the one whose job it was.  You just couldn’t help feeling assured by her all-around niceness.  I actually asked her if she had been a nurse before she was a physician, she was so unassuming, the antithesis of your usual I-Am-God surgeon.   She laughed and ascribed it to her upbringing and OCD.  More reason to love her.  She makes you want to be her best friend.  Or maybe marry her.

Not to be left out, my anesthesiologist was outstanding as well.  His clinical expertise combined with incredible compassion truly helped in easing my considerable fear of the anesthesia, in light of my lung complications.

Anyway, the follow up appointment was a mixed bag.  She got the whole tumor, which turned out to be the size of an egg.  While there were cancer cells in the margins, she believes she got it all out.  That was the good news.  I was surprised and dismayed to learn that after discussing my case at a meeting this week, the team felt chemotherapy could be necessary.  But with all my health problems, I might not be well enough to withstand it.  That was upsetting on both levels.  Then there is the radiation, which is the usual protocol after a lumpectomy.  I was really keeping any thought about the whole process at the back of my mind, it was just too much to take in before the surgery.  But now that it is imminent, the reality of what a trial it will be began to hit home.  Radiation is done five days a week, Monday to Friday, for six and a half weeks.  With my mobility issues, this is going to be tough.  It will be a challenge getting me there, it will be a challenge getting me on the table and it will be a challenge for me to lay on my back for a prolonged period of time.  As with everything else in my life, this will be really complicated.

Then I have the gall bladder issue.  I still have a biliary drain in, a constant source of discomfort and worry about potential infection.  But we dare not attempt the surgery, because God forbid I have complications, it will delay the breast cancer treatment again, as it has been delayed over the past months by all my health crises.

Sigh.

I am working at staying positive.  For one thing, I have a group of incredible, wonderful, loving friends behind me.  I am inundated by cards, phone calls, visits and well-wishing on Facebook. I am humbled by everyone’s faithfulness.   I feel as though I owe it to them to keep upbeat.  If they have confidence in me, who am I to be gloomy?

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