Hair and Facing Hair Loss

Let's Talk About Hair and Cancer

When I received my diagnosis of breast cancer and heard the words "chemotherapy", the first thing that went through my mind was "I am going to be bald".  Yes it seems silly that when facing a life threatening disease the first concern would be your appearance; but I openly admit it was mine.  Yes, I cried and was upset that I have cancer; and being forced to face your own mortality is very difficult.  None of us want to think about how much time we have left so we simply don't think about it.  Cancer patients are forced to think about it.  Everyone tells us "be strong", "you have to fight", "don't give up",  and all the cliche sayings that are meant well; but unless you yourself have cancer, you truly don't know what it's like to be the one watching your entire life change--to include the things you feel are part of your identity.

Hair is important to everyone weather they admit it or not.  We spend a lot of money on haircuts, coloring our hair, conditioning treatments, shampoos, conditioners, shine treatments, gels that promise to straighten, curl, defrizz, etc.  The list is endless; and the amount of money spent on these products is astronomical.  Which proves my point that our hair means a lot to us.  I have a vanity room dedicated to getting ready each morning.  It's my girl haven for putting on makeup, fixing my hair, and getting ready.  I have a three shelf stand next to my vanity, and two of the shelves are FULL of hair products.  So needless to say, I have always been a hair product junkie.

Upon coming to terms with the fact that I have cancer, I also had to face the fact that I would lose my hair.  Each time I thought about it, I would burst into tears.  I have spent the past four years getting one conditioning treatment after another to keep my hair healthy as I was growing it out.  My hair was longer than it has ever been in my entire life.  I finally had long hair.  And it was all going to fall out.

A week before my first chemotherapy appointment, I forced myself to go to the Hopes Boutique in the Breast Center where I see all my physicians and treatment.  There is a salon in the back for patients facing hair loss offering wigs, hats, and full service fittings.  I felt so out of place and silly at first.  I was handed several books with photos of wigs as well as page markers I could use to mark photos of wigs I liked and would be interested in trying.  My husband sat next to me as I opened the first book and stared at the photos of beautiful women with beautiful hair.  Tears were dropping all over the book.  I angrily swiped the tears off my face determined to face this.  I began looking for haircuts and styles that closely resembled my current hair.  After marking a few, Robyn, came over and introduced herself.  She had a fun, vibrant personality and immediately made me feel better.  I just wanted to hug her.  Something about her made me feel "okay".  She began pulling boxes of wigs from the shelves and complimenting my choices.  We laughed as she put the netted cap over my head which resembled a small sock.

I was expecting a wig look.  You know what I mean.  You've seen people that you knew right away they were wearing a wig.  That's the look I was dreading.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that the hair felt natural and was actually more healthy looking than my own hair.  I have a small head, so we had to stick with petite wigs with less hair wove into them.  When I put a wig on that had thicker hair, there was that wig look I wanted to avoid.  I had always wanted thick hair like my daughters were blessed with.  I now understood why God didn't give me this.  It simply doesn't fit my face!  I quickly began to have fun trying on the wigs.  Oh, all the colors available!  I could suddenly see what I looked like with every possible hair color out there.  I could see what I looked like with various cuts and styles without a commitment.  How often do we get that chance?  I found I actually look good with short haircuts.  Cuts I would have NEVER tried because I've always wanted and strove for long hair.  I truly felt like I had hope again.  I settled on two different wigs.  One was the exact length of my current hair with an almost exact cut; and the second was a similar cut but with the length hitting just the top of my shoulders.  I was happy and excited about my choices.  While I did not want to loose my hair, I felt like I was taking control of something I could not control by taking these steps and preparing myself.  My advice to anyone facing hair loss is do not wait until your hair is falling out to take this step.  Face it head on and go while you're hair is still healthy so you can match it up as much as possible.  It can be fun.  Yes, it's hard, but it gets easier.

I have my wigs all set up in my vanity room bushed out and on the plastic heads to keep their shape.  I am ready.  Yet, my hair still hasn't begun to fall out.  I get my third dose of chemotherapy (Taxol) tomorrow, October 31, 2013.  However, I know it will be happening soon.  Just a few days before my first treatment, I went to the salon and got my hair cut short.  I cannot control my hair falling out; but I CAN control the trauma of seeing long strands of hair all over the place.  For me, I felt like that would be even harder.  Also, I tried to look at this as my chance to get a haircut I would never try otherwise.  It's going to fall out anyway, so why not?  I will only be stuck with it a few weeks, and if I hate it, I would just shave it off and wear my wig.  It was hair freedom for the first time in my life.

After my first dose, my head had these funny pin prick feelings for several days.  It's as if I was very aware of every hair on my head. My hair follicles were rebelling, and I could feel it.  Yet my hair stayed in tact.  After my second dose, I prepared myself for it.  My scalp hurt and was very sensitive.  I kept gently tugging on strands of hair checking to see if it had begun or running my hands lightly through my hair to see if it was shedding; but nothing.  My scalp hurt like crazy; but it was stubbornly staying in place.  I also have noticed I have several infected hairs on my scalp.  I can feel all over my head, and there are small bumps all over my head.  I've also had issues with my face breaking out over the past week.  I've always seen a dermatologist, so I had some face wash for clogged pores (which I usually have issues with in the summer when it's hot), and it's drying my face up nicely.  This makes it very clear to me that every hair follicle on my body to include the invisible hairs on my face are irritated from the chemotherapy.  Yet, no hair has yet fallen out.  I shower and wash my hair gently.  I brush my hair as if I'm brushing a baby's head.  Just waiting for that moment to arrive.  While I do not want it to happen, I sort of do so the waiting will be over. I am a very stubborn person, and it would seem my hair is just as stubborn as me.  

November 5, 2013--It has been three weeks and four days since my very first chemo treatment.  Today, I have noticed a little more shedding than what I would consider normal.  While it's not a significant amount, I can say it's enough to say it's outside what we would consider normal pieces of hair coming out.  It's not falling out in clumps (which is what I imagined); but rather a strand here and there.  I can run my hands through my hair, and each time, a strand is in my hand.  Many people reported a slow thinning of their hair while on treatment; and it would seem this is the route my hair is taking.  I have fine hair, so I truly expected it to just come out in clumps, and it still might eventually; but I am remaining positive no matter what happens.  I am prepared for this.  When it comes time to buzz cut my hair and wear a wig, will it be easy?  No, I have no doubt I'll cry my eyes out; but I'm as ready as I can possibly be too. 

November 6, 2013--Today marked the first day I can say for sure my hair is beginning to fall out.  I was sitting at my daughter's school waiting to pick her up, and I noticed quite a bit of hair strands on my shoulder.  I collected all that I could see, and I ran my hands through my hair,  I found quite a bit of hair in my hand.  I kept collecting it in a ball and running my hands through my hair, and each time, I would get hair in my hands.  I ended up with a ball of hair that looks like what you clean out of your brush (when you haven't cleaned it in about two weeks).  While my hair is not coming out in clumps, it's definitely thinning at what would seem to be a fast pace now.  When I got home, I ran my lint roller over my t-shirt, and a lot of hair was on the back of my t-shirt.  I foresee a buzz cut very soon as I will go crazy with hair coming out all over me.  Not to mention I use a straightener on my hair each day, and I doubt my hair will withstand a straighter if it's coming out when I do nothing to it.  As much as I had prepared myself for this, it was still hard to see that much hair in my hands.  I suppose a part of me had begun to hope I may escape this fate a little longer since I had already escaped it for three weeks.  I am grateful my hair held on this long though.

November 7, 2013--As I suspected, a lot of my hair came out while in the shower this morning.  I had to clean my shower out after I got out as it would have been gross for someone else to step into that.  The wad of hair I collected was alarming--and long pieces.  When someone looks at me, it's still not obvious I'm losing hair, but I can tell because I know how my hair felt before I began losing it.  I straightened it as little as possible this morning.  Just enough so it looked "fixed".  I have resorted to carrying a lint roller with me to periodically run over my clothes to collect the hair.  It's amazing how much hair collects on your shirt that you can't see until you run a lint roller over your shirt!  I'm going to try to get through this weekend with my hair and possibly buzz it off on Sunday.  But, if it's getting so thin it looks bad, it will be happening sooner. 

November 8, 2013--Today marks the day I can officially say enough hair came out that I began looking bald.  My hair was so thin I could not fix it or cover up the fact that I was losing hair.  There was no covering it up.  So, while my daughter slept and I was alone in the house, I took scissors, and I began cutting off my hair.  When I got my hair cut short, it felt VERY short to me.  But seeing the hair in the shower, all over me, and covered in it, it looked long.  As I cut it off, it looked long.  I cried so much I couldn't see what I was doing as I cut chunk after chunk of hair from my head.  I wasn't aiming for a particular style.  It didn't matter if it was even.  I have no intention of trying to fix it anyway.  I just needed the majority of it off so I wouldn't look like the cat lady of Syracuse covered in hair.  I threw chunks of hair in the trash can at my vanity.  There was so much of my beautiful hair in that trash can.  I don't know when I'll see my real hair again.  It seems so far away before I'll brush my hair and be happy with what I see.

After I was finished, I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize myself.  I looked like a boy with a bad haircut.  Gone was the sexy, beautiful woman with long hair and a mischievous smile and in her place stood a woman with sad, puffy eyes, patchy tufts of hair on her heady, and finally, a cancer patient.  For the first time since I was diagnosed, I looked like a cancer patient.  I don't like what I see.  After a few moments of crying and mourning the loss of my hair (yet again), I wiped my face with a washcloth determined to put my big girl panties on and move on.  I have chemotherapy today, so I had to get it together.  I put a nightcap on to cover my hair and focused on putting my makeup on.  After a few moments, I realized the face was still mine.  That made me feel somewhat better.  After completing my makeup, I put my shorter wig on.  It's annoying to say the least.  It makes my head itch, and I feel like my hair is in my face constantly.  It doesn't part exactly the way my own hair did.  I can't push it aside and out of my face like I did my own hair.  It's just not MY hair.  But it looks okay.  I at least look presentable.  I don't think anyone would know it's a wig who didn't already know me.  But I know.  As hard as I've tried to be positive this morning, I'm having a hard time today.  This was a tough morning.  But life goes on and so shall I.

November 23, 2013:  I wanted to update this particular blog to include when I began losing noticing my eyebrows thinning.  Just before I had my sixth treatment of Taxol, I noticed my eyebrows were getting thinner each day when I would do my makeup.  I have to fill the in quite a bit now as there are patches of eyebrows where there is no hair.  I use an eyebrow gel pallet from Sephora with an angled eyebrow brush.  Once I fill in my eyebrows with the brown gel, I use an eyebrow pencil to draw in tiny "hairs".  It takes a little practice, but you get pretty good at it pretty fast.  It's going to be tough when I have absolutely no eyebrows left to use as a guide though.

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The Flu

Boo---the flu!

Today marks the fourth day I haven't felt like myself.  At first, I thought "Oh, here come the side effects of the chemo everyone talks about".  So far, I really have not had any side effects from my chemo, and have felt blessed to be tolerating it so well.  After two days of my stomach cramping and feeling dizzy every time I walked around, I realized this had nothing to do with the chemo.  Upon speaking to my sister, she confirmed it had made its rounds through her home as well.  I became frustrated as I've always been the one who doesn't catch things.  I pride myself on being tough and simply not catching flus, colds and illnesses that others catch.  I always say "my immune system is like a block wall.  Nothing is getting through".  I still believe my body is stronger than most so I'm happy to say I've kept going through this.  It's just a flu after all.....I'm feeling somewhat better today other than repeated trips to the bathroom.

I will not give in to this........

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My Life Before Cancer...

I have caught myself spending a lot of time looking back at photos from my life both in the recent past as well as in the more distant past and thinking "if I could just go back and tell her what I know now" or "I wish I could be that person again".  I look back on photos of my life, and it's like watching a movie play out.  Vacations, milestones in my children's lives, my wedding to my husband only two years ago, more vacations, school functions, etc.  All with amazing memories to go with each smile and happy photo.  Then I come to photos that were taken from the point I found out forward, and I try to find a difference in the photos.  The truth is, I can't find it.

My smile is as genuine, my love for live is still showing, and I'm still in love with my children and have every reason to fight with all I have.  So, rather than blog about cancer itself today.  I wanted to blog about how amazing my life has been for the past 40 years.  I had a mother who loved me more than words could ever say.  I know without a doubt she's in heaven now watching over me and cheering me on to beat this.  I thank God every day for giving me such a loving mother who raised me to fear God but also remember he is a loving God.  I was blessed with children at a young age, and it wasn't my plan, but it was God's plan; and now I know why.  I smile now thinking of how everyone asked me how I would raise a baby at the age of 18 as a single parent.  I trusted in God and and never considered an alternative.  God sent me a man whom I married and who loved me and my son as his own, and together, we had two daughters.  While our marriage eventually had issues and we divorced, we have remained friends and work together as parents to continue to raise our children.  I had a GOOD marriage with him, and we shared many happy memories with our children.  I questioned why things worked out as they did and why they couldn't stay the same.  Again, God had a plan; and just because I didn't understand it didn't mean it was not his plan.

I enjoyed a few years as a single parent with my children, who were all growing up quickly.  While many women struggle and have a difficult time, I laughed and enjoyed my time with them individually. I got to know my children on a level many parents don't get to.  They truly were and still remain my best friends.  Upon meeting my current husband, I went through many phases of doubt questioning if I was ready for marriage again.  My children convinced me to take the leap and "be happy".  With their blessings, I married my husband on January 7, 2012.  Our marriage was all about our blended families as he also has two children from a previous relationship.  Our ceremony and reception revolved around our children and was more of a celebration than anything.  Never did I intent to marry again, but once again, God presented his plan for me.  My goal was to focus on my own children and not let anyone or anything take my focus off them.  As selfish as it may sound, I did not want to raise anyone else's children.  But once again, God had his own plan, and as always, it didn't seem to go along with the plan I had for myself.  Not long after we were married, my husband received custody of his children, and they began living with us full time.  A difficult situation with their mother had deemed this necessary, and I found myself suddenly thrown into a role of the step mother full time.  I kicked, stomped and threw my share of temper tantrums.  My youngest was 15, and I didn't want to start over again.  I'm sure God shook his head and said "too bad".

My husband and I have struggled to maintain a new marriage, parenting issues associated with a blended family, and the struggles that are associated with obtaining and maintaining custody of children from a bad situation.  It strained our marriage and made things difficult for us.  We often questioned what we were doing and if we should even be together.  Maybe we had no business being together and just needed to part ways to ensure everyone else's happiness?  We spent this past summer focusing on our children and spending time with them before everyone got busy with school.  We each ignored the growing issue between us.  Both hoping it would just go away.  One evening in early September, I thought "God, I cannot ever figure your plan out.  Each time I think I'm making the right decision, you show me otherwise; but I cannot continue like this.  I really think we are going to have to part ways.  This is too hard".  Mentally, I had made the decision.  On the outside, I hadn't made a single step toward making it happen.

When I found the lump, cancer crossed my mind; but I didn't really believe that's what it was.  I was simply too young, in great health, active, and way too busy for that nonsense.  The news shocked me to my core.  It made me face my own mortality and that old cliche saying that "tomorrow isn't promised".  Suddenly, I realized God was once again putting me in a position where my decisions simply weren't possible and weather I liked it or not, I would follow his plan.  My husband and I looked at one another and realized all the silly disagreements and things that seemed so big were no longer even important.  Surviving and beating cancer was all that mattered.  I could no longer focus on me and my wants, but I was being put in a position where I was forced to focus on surviving for those I loved and allowing God to mold me into what his plan for me is.  I wrecked my car three summers ago rolling it and being trapped inside.  I should have been killed in that accident; but I walked away with only a couple bruises.  God spared me that day for a reason; and I have to trust his plan for me and my life.  Surrendering my wants and wishes and giving God control of my life will be my biggest challenge; but I have no doubt doing so will also save me and everyone I care about.

Me and my daughter, Autumn, in Clearwater Beach, Florida.  August 2013.

Me and my children.  May 2011.

Me, my daughter, Autumn, and her friend in Orlando, FL August 2013.

Me and my youngest daughter in Savannah, GA July 2013.

Me and my husband on our wedding day, January 7, 2012.

Me and my husband snorkeling while on a trip to Cancun Mexico May 2013.


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Chemo Dose 2/12--Taxol



Chemo Dose 2--October 25, 2013


I had my second dose of Taxol yesterday.  I bounced into the office much more confident than the week before after having such a good week.  This week, I was instructed to enter the infusion center directly.  I was taken to my chemo suite, and the IV was placed right there.  This was much easier than the week before having to go to two different places.  And Abigail, my nurse did the IV, and she was MUCH better at it--it didn't even hurt.  They drew blood from my IV for labs and brought me some snacks while the labs were ran.  My labs came back fine, so they proceeded with my pre-chemo drugs (Benedryl, Pepcid, and Steroids).  Next week will be my last week having to get those--thanks goodness.  They seem to give me more of a reaction than the chemo itself.
The Taxol was then started.  I happily chatted with my daughter while poison once again pumped into my veins.  Cancer killing poison, but poison none the less.  I had a check-up with my doctor on Wednesday, October 23, 2013.  He checked the tumor, and much to my surprise, he asked me if it seemed smaller to me.  I said 'yes, but I thought I was imagining things.  I thought sure there was no way it had gotten smaller after only one treatment".  He said "no, it's definitely smaller and softer.  You're responding well to the treatment".  So while I hated the Taxol, I loved it as well.  
After an hour, my treatment was done, and I was set free.  I was at my appointment for only two hours this week.  Hey, maybe this won't be so bad after all?  Up until now, my appointments have been long and drawn out; and up to 3 a week.  I'm down to simply my weekly treatments and 2 hours each time.  I can handle that!
That evening, I was once again full of energy.  I went to my friend's house and visited with her and her cousin.  We ended up going to BW3's for dinner, and I had a great time laughing with friends and forgetting about cancer for an evening.  I felt like my old self for the first time since I had found out.  Granted, I didn't enjoy a cocktail with my friends, but I was okay with that.  I was perfectly happy with several glasses of water and food!  Surprisingly, my appetite has been normal, and I've continued to eat like I always have.  I've always drank a lot of water, so that's easy for me to keep up with!  Once again, I wouldn't have slept Friday night if not for Ambien.  As much as I like the extra energy, I don't like the amped up feeling that keeps me from falling asleep normally.  

Before going to BW3's, we thought it would be a good idea to give out beloved dogs boobs in honor of breast cancer awareness.  Like I said, I was full of energy!

I awoke Saturday morning feeling fine.  I half expected to feel sick since this was my second treatment; but other than my scalp tingling and burning, I felt fine.  I continued with things around the house like I normally would, running errands for my kids, and evening visiting a friend.  I sit here typing this, and I pray to God my good fortune continues, and I continue to tolerate the Taxol this well.  It's so unfair that women get breast cancer in the first place; and it's even more unfair that the medication that makes us well can also make us very sick.  It makes me wonder why the side effects vary so drastically from person to person when it's the same type of chemo and dosage?   Don't get me wrong--I do not want to be sick!  My scalp continues to burn.  It's been 8 days since my first treatment so I am guessing I will begin to see my hair fall out soon.  This constant burning on my head has to mean something.  It's as if can feel each individual hair follicle in my head; and they hurt. I constantly check my hair--tugging on random places to see if anything comes out.  I hold my breath after a shower when I comb it.  I know it's coming, but it's still going to be a shock.  I had long hair; and I had it cut short two weeks ago to make it falling out easier to take; but I know it's still going to be hard.  

My hair before I had to cut it off preparing for Chemo, and my hair after I had it all cut off!


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Chemo--Dose 1/12 of Taxol


Chemo Dose 1--October 18, 2013 



I am receiving Taxol.  I had no idea what to expect when I arrived for my appointment.  I opted to not get a port until it became necessary.  I already feel like walking, talking cancer; and I simply feel like a port would be just one more reminder.  Upon arriving for my first appointment, I was taken to an area where they insert an IV and draw blood for labs.  They informed me they would be drawing blood each week before I was given my treatment to check my counts and see how my body is "keeping up".  My left arm cannot be used for blood pressure or an IV due to that side being used for the sentinal node biopsy.  This limits my IV options to my right arm only.  I've never had an issue with a lab not being able to insert an IV or draw labs, so I was optimistic I would be fine.  They had to stick me three times to get the IV started.  That's never happened before?  I honestly believe the girl who attempted it the first two times simply was not good at her job because the girl she brought in on the third try had no issue at all.  Anyway, my labs were all fine, and the IV was ready to go.
I was then taken over to the chemotherapy infusion area.  I was extremely nervous as I had no idea what was going to happen.  Was I going to have a reaction?  Would it immediately make me sick?  Would I feel funny?  How would it feel to have "poison" injected into my veins?  I was assigned a private chemotherapy suite complete with a comfortable recliner, TV, and chairs for my guests.  The nurse introduced herself as Abigail, and said she would be my nurse for each one of my treatments.  I found this to be a nice surprise as I would see a familiar face each week.  She took a lot of time to explain to me what I should expect, what side effects to watch for, and how to handle common issues.  She then explained that the first three chemo sessions, I would receive three pre-medications.  Benedryl to prevent an allergic reaction, Pepcid to prevent my body from blocking the chemo, and a large dose of steroids.  She was very good at slowly pushing the medications into my IV so as not to cause burning or discomfort.  The Benedryl made me feel slightly drowsy for about 15 minutes, but the Steroid shot soon took over and the foggy feeling went away. They waited 15 minutes after these were injected in my IV and then began the Taxol.  
I sat there nervously as it began to drip into my IV watching it enter my body thinking "what am I doing to myself"?  I kept waiting to "feel" it in my veins or to feel funny.  One would think if poison is entering your body, you would realize it.  But I honestly felt nothing.  It took about an hour for the full chemo treatment although I was at the doctor for about 5 hours total.  After the Taxol was complete, the IV was removed and I was free to go.  It seemed way too easy.  I was expecting some horrific experience; but it didn't seem any different than any other trip to the doctor for some medication.  I told myself not to get too excited that I had read often the side effects took a few days.  I felt fine all day; but I did develop diarrhea that evening three times.  I also noticed my scalp felt very sensitive, and my face was flushed.  As if I had a sunburn.  Other than that, I felt fine.  I did feel fully of energy and if not for my Ambien, I do not think I would have slept any that night thanks to the steroid injection.  
I awoke Saturday morning expecting to feel "bad", but I actually felt great.  Honestly, better than I had in quite a while.  I thought to myself "shouldn't I be feeling sick or something and why do I feel so good"?  I said a small prayer of thanks to God for allowing me to feel so good, and didn't question it anymore.  A Cancer Walk was scheduled in town on the public walking path for me to raise money to help me with expenses.  Within a week of my sister planning it, it had evolved into an awareness walk complete with the local cancer society on site distributing information about breast cancer and ways women can get free screenings.  I walked the entire 5 miles of the path, and felt perfectly fine.  I've been an avid runner for years, and it felt good to be on "my" path.  Ironically, I ran the 5K in the Susan G. Koman Race for the Cure in Columbus, Ohio the summer before I got sick.  I would have never guessed I would be one of those women the following year.  
Sunday morning, I went to church with my family.  After service, we went out to eat, and my stomach began cramping while eating.  After I got home, I had diarrhea a few times again, but that was it.  After speaking to my sister, I don't even think the diarrhea was related to my chemo.  A stomach bug had went through her house as well with diarrhea.  I thought to myself "is it possible I had no side effects"? Besides my scalp feeling like it had a sunburn and my hair hurt (if that makes sense), I felt perfectly normal.
I have an office job Monday-Friday 8 a.m. - 4:30 p.m.  I worked Monday - Thursday and felt fine all week!

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Sentinal Node Biopsy--Is it in my lymph nodes too?


Keep Calm & Beat Cancer


Since I found out I have breast cancer, my life has become a whirlwind of doctors appointments and learning more about breast cancer than I ever cared to know.  Not that I didn't care about those who had breast cancer; but because I had never learned the intimate details associated with this disease simply because it had never personally touched my life.  In only a few short weeks, I am using words and speaking "cancer lingo" like a pro.  I wish I could go back to the uneducated state I was in only a few short weeks ago--yet it feels like a lifetime ago.  
I had a Sentinal Node Biopsy on October 3, 2013.  I had spent a great deal of time online prior to the biopsy learning what to expect and what it meant.  I felt like I was prepared.  My MRI had shown no indication there was sentinal node involvement; and my surgical oncologist was optimistic.  Prior to the Sentinal Node Biopsy results, I was diagnosed as a Stage 2B Ductal Carsinoma Triple Negative due to the size of the tumor, which measures 5 cm on the MRI in my left breast in the 12 o'clock position.  I've had several other surgeries in my past, and while I was somewhat nervous before each surgery, none of them compared to how I felt before this surgery.  At the age of 40, I suddenly felt like my life was "on the line" and I may be reaching the end of my journey.  Everyone keeps telling me to stop thinking like that and I have to be strong and tough, but cancer is a scary word.  Add triple negative to that; and it's enough to cause quite an anxiety attack for even the coolest and toughest of individuals.  
I was fighting back tears as I was being readied on the operating table.  I looked up at my surgeon as they placed the mask on my face and told me to take some deep breaths.  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it saying "I will take good care of you".  It felt good to know he understood just how scared I was.  I wasn't just another patient but an actual person with feelings.  The next thing I recall was my surgeon leaning over me as I woke up and telling me the surgery was over.  He said my sentinal nodes were all clumped together; and in order to remove them, it created a rather large void under my arm so he had to insert a drain.  Due to this, I would need some time to heal; and he was going to have to postpone my first chemotherapy appointment scheduled for October 11, 2013.  It was about then the first wave of paint hit, and I realized my left shoulder/arm was aching so badly I felt like I had been in a sword fight and had lost.  I was admitted to the hospital and kept overnight for observation due to the surgery being more involved than expected.  I later found out 15 sentinal lymph nodes had been removed. Most people have 3 to 10.  Leave it to me to be unique and different.  
I had a follow up appointment on October 9, 2013 to find out the results of my biopsy.  I prayed every day for results showing no lymph node involvement.  I was finding it more and more difficult to focus on my every day life without bursting into tears.  I had only known I had cancer a little over a week, and it had already taken over my life.  Gone was my carefree life full of laughter and fun with my children (my son is 21, my daughter is 19, and my youngest daughter is 15).  Suddenly every minute of my life was about cancer, doctor appointments, surgeries, treatment options, and fear of the unknown.  I find myself crying every time I turn around.  I brush my hair and try to memorize what it feels like to feel my hair hanging down my back, blowing across my face and just how MY hair feels in general.  For I know it will be gone in only a few weeks.  I look in the mirror and I wonder if I will recognize myself in a few short months.  Finally, I stare at my breasts, and I hate them.  I hate what they have brought into my life.  I was drying my hair getting ready for the 2 hour drive to my doctor's office, and the clinic called my cell phone.  It was my surgeon's assistant.  My appointment was for 5 p.m., but he wanted to know if I could be there at 1 p.m. instead; and he also wanted me to meet with my oncologist that day as well.  My heart dropped to the floor.  It just didn't seem like a good sign that he was squeezing in an extra appointment and moving mine up.  I didn't ask for details as I knew she couldn't give me details over the phone, so I just agreed and hung up the phone.  I physically felt sick.  I went from being optimistic and feeling good for the first time in a week to being anxious and scared.  
My husband met me at the clinic, and my 15 year old daughter went with me.  Fearing the worst, I asked my daughter to wait in the waiting room, and my husband and I anxiously waited in the exam room.  My doctor first check the incision site as well as my drain.  He informed me he couldn't remove the drain that day since it was still draining too much.  I was told I was attempting to do too much and it wasn't healing fast enough. I was guilty as charged.  I had went to work the day before; and I'm not one to sit around and do nothing.  I despise depending on others, and I enjoy being independent and doing things for myself.  Yet another part of my life I was being forced to let go of.  He then asked me to take a seat next to my husband.  I knew in my heart he was telling me to sit with my husband because I was going to need the support.  I clutched his hand, and I was so keenly aware of the silence in the room I could hear the hum of the lights above me.  After what felt like an eternity, he began talking.  
As much as I thought I had prepared myself for bad news, I still felt my heart break a little more as he said "the biopsy did reveal some lymph node involvement.  I removed 15 lymph nodes.  1 of them had a tumor on it, and four others had cancer cells.  The remaining ten were clear".  I had silent tears rolling down my face; and I was squeezing my husband's hand so hard, my nails were digging into his palm.  More bad news to add to what I had already been dealt in such a short period of time.  I wanted an all clear on lymph node involvement so badly.  For me, it would be something positive to hold onto while I fought this monster.  I felt like my world came to a screeching halt yet again.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to ask why--what had I done that was so bad to deserve this?  Yet, I quietly sat there with tears streaming down my face while all these emotions were coursing through me and these thoughts racing through my brain.  He then told me this changed the stage of my cancer, which was previously a Stage 2B.  I was now considered a Stage 3A.  

I numbly completed my appointment with him and went to another floor to meet my plastic surgeon who would be responsible for my reconstruction.  I sat in the exam room of his office looking at my breast with the ugly purple markings all over it indicating what areas would have to be removed--to include a large patch of skin in the 12 o'clock position of my breast.  My plastic surgeon was very nice; and I could tell he was trying to treat lightly with me.  It was obvious to him I was in a fragile state.  He was talking about reconstruction on my left breast only.  I looked him in the eye and said "I do not want to go through this again in a few years.  I want them both removed.  This cancer has a high reoccurrence rate, and I'm not giving it a chance--that's the only control I have left.".  I could tell he was shocked but he also agreed and understood.  He said I would likely have a more balanced appearance removing them both as it's very difficult to match breasts when only one has been removed.  
I then went to yet another floor and met with my oncologist.  She informed me my treatment plan was the same as it had been prior to knowing there was lymph node involvement--6 months of chemotherapy, a complete mastectomy, radiation, then a revision.  It would be a full 2 years before I felt normal again--whatever that may be after this experience.  My chemotherapy would begin on October 18 to give my body time to finish healing from the biopsy.  
I drove home with thoughts of my children, my husband, and my family running through my mind.  I'm the youngest of three girls, yet I had breast cancer.  I take care of myself, eat right, work out, work a full time job, a good mom--all the things we are taught to do as women, so why me?  Why did this happen to me?  I began having green discharge from my nipples (both breasts) in 2008.  I went to the doctor and was told it was nothing to worry about as it was only a hormonal cyst draining behind my nipple.  I questioned this diagnosis, and I went to Columbus for a second opinion.  I was told the same thing there.  I had my first mammogram at 39 years old due to several lumps I had.  All were determined to be hormonal cysts and harmless.  Nothing of concern was found and I received a "normal" mammogram result.  This tumor was not there then, was it?  No one saw it.  I had a mammogram again this year because of this particular tumor.  Yet I was given a "normal" mammogram result.  Because this one was painful and rather large, I didn't accept NORMAL as a possibility, and I pushed the clinic to further investigate.  Only then was an ultrasound done.  Then the MRI.  
All three scans indicated an abnormality; but none exhibited signs of cancer.  No one really thought this was anything of concern.  Had I not had a visibly large tumor, it would have been passed off as "no big deal".  How many women are given mammogram results of normal, they breath a sigh of relief and move on with their life while this monster is lurking inside them?  I looked at my daughter sleeping in the passenger seat, and I try to imagine not getting to see her graduate, missing her proms, missing meeting my first grandchild; and I became angry.  What right does this have to come into my life and destroy not only my life; but the lives of my children, my husband, and everyone who cares about me?
So, even though I have fear, I will fight.  Even though I wonder if I will go through chemotherapy, a mastectomy, and recovery only to have it return at some future point, I will fight.  Because I am fighting for my children and myself.  

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