Wednesday, January 25, 2012
I'm Good!
Today will go down as the first day since I was diagnosed that I could honestly answer "good" when asked how I was doing. I didn't, in fact, answer "good" because I'm so used to saying "okay" that it comes out of my mouth without me thinking about it. I actually had a moment after I answered okay when I thought, "No, wait a minute, I'm good!" And can't wait to answer great!
Monday, January 23, 2012
These boots were made for walking!
I've decided to participate in the 2012 Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in San Francisco on July 7 & 8, my birthday! Please click on the link that I've posted to access my personal fundraising page about the Avon Walk and what it means to me. I have to raise $1800 to simply participate and would love to raise more! I would greatly appreciate any donation. CancerGirl's going to walk 39.3 miles for a cure and quality care for everyone, regardless of insurance and income. Please support me! :)
http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/SanFrancisco?px=6336023&pg=personal&fr_id=2173
http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/SanFrancisco?px=6336023&pg=personal&fr_id=2173
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Friday, December 23, 2011
A Boob of a Different Color
When I first found out that I would need either a full or partial mastectomy (also called a lumpectomy), I went online. And this is my advice if you have breast cancer (or even if you don't) - NEVER, EVER search Google images for the phrases "mastectomy scars" and/or "breast reconstruction." Yikes! After seeing women's chests displaying giant red slash scars with no nipples, I became terrified. My surgeon, however, was amazing, and it ended up that my partial mastectomy went very well, and my breast looks very similar to how it looked before.
Six weeks later, when it came time to begin radiation therapy, I turned to Google images once again. I know, I know. But it turns out that I could only find one picture of a radiation burn on someone being treated for breast cancer. I'm not sure why that is, maybe people are just shy because the side effects from radiation aren't that pretty, but I'm a person that thinks it's helpful to see the worst so that I can prepare for it.
A few years ago, my friend went through radiation treatment and I saw his burns. His neck ended up looking bright red, something akin to a severe sunburn. But his situation and mine were different. I was told before treatment that places where the skin folds or stretches regularly are more prone to blistering and skin breaks. Also, having to wear a bra over irritated skin can cause pain.
In any case, I was curious, so I've decided to post a few pictures showing my skin while it was peeling and at its peak burn period. It's kind of gross, but it's not as horrific as I once thought it might be. Also, I wanted to show that it was manageable because of my frequent moisturizing and pleading with it. Each day for the last couple weeks, I'd apply my radiation cream and say aloud, "Please don't bleed. Please don't bleed. PLEASE don't bleed."
The first side effect that really threw me was the peeling. It doesn't peel like a sunburn; instead, the skin comes off all at once. One evening three weeks into treatment, I was rubbing moisturizer onto my chest, and when I pulled my fingers away I had a white paste of skin all over my hand. It shed copious amounts of white flakes over me and the shirt I was wearing. It was definitely scary. But it only happened a few times and didn't hurt. The burns, however, eventually did hurt and, also, in a different way than a typical sunburn. The skin on my side under my arm was the worst and that is displayed in the third picture. I once described my pain as "my side feels like it was hit with a blowtorch, the fold under my breast feels like it's covered in poison ivy, and my nipple feels like I put it in a pencil sharpener." That was only accurate for a short time, though. Also, the red in the pictures doesn't really do justice to the hot pink to bright red to dark brown colors of my changing skin. It was definitely a boob of a different color. Each day, I woke up to an altered, yet equally vivid hue. One side of me looked perfectly normal and the other bizarre. You've heard of the Batman villain Two-Face, right? Well, I was Two-Boob, his radioactive sister.
The superficial side effects end up going away slowly as the skin renews; two weeks after treatment, I still have a tan and my skin is peeling. The harder side effect is the internal pain, which may stay for a little longer or be permanent. That feels like occasional rolling shock waves through my chest, but that's manageable as well. It's chronic but not constant. My only permanent external scars will be my three little freckle-like tattoos: one in the middle of my chest and one on each side of my body (shown in the last picture). And I'm actually kind of fond of them.



Six weeks later, when it came time to begin radiation therapy, I turned to Google images once again. I know, I know. But it turns out that I could only find one picture of a radiation burn on someone being treated for breast cancer. I'm not sure why that is, maybe people are just shy because the side effects from radiation aren't that pretty, but I'm a person that thinks it's helpful to see the worst so that I can prepare for it.
A few years ago, my friend went through radiation treatment and I saw his burns. His neck ended up looking bright red, something akin to a severe sunburn. But his situation and mine were different. I was told before treatment that places where the skin folds or stretches regularly are more prone to blistering and skin breaks. Also, having to wear a bra over irritated skin can cause pain.
In any case, I was curious, so I've decided to post a few pictures showing my skin while it was peeling and at its peak burn period. It's kind of gross, but it's not as horrific as I once thought it might be. Also, I wanted to show that it was manageable because of my frequent moisturizing and pleading with it. Each day for the last couple weeks, I'd apply my radiation cream and say aloud, "Please don't bleed. Please don't bleed. PLEASE don't bleed."
The first side effect that really threw me was the peeling. It doesn't peel like a sunburn; instead, the skin comes off all at once. One evening three weeks into treatment, I was rubbing moisturizer onto my chest, and when I pulled my fingers away I had a white paste of skin all over my hand. It shed copious amounts of white flakes over me and the shirt I was wearing. It was definitely scary. But it only happened a few times and didn't hurt. The burns, however, eventually did hurt and, also, in a different way than a typical sunburn. The skin on my side under my arm was the worst and that is displayed in the third picture. I once described my pain as "my side feels like it was hit with a blowtorch, the fold under my breast feels like it's covered in poison ivy, and my nipple feels like I put it in a pencil sharpener." That was only accurate for a short time, though. Also, the red in the pictures doesn't really do justice to the hot pink to bright red to dark brown colors of my changing skin. It was definitely a boob of a different color. Each day, I woke up to an altered, yet equally vivid hue. One side of me looked perfectly normal and the other bizarre. You've heard of the Batman villain Two-Face, right? Well, I was Two-Boob, his radioactive sister.
The superficial side effects end up going away slowly as the skin renews; two weeks after treatment, I still have a tan and my skin is peeling. The harder side effect is the internal pain, which may stay for a little longer or be permanent. That feels like occasional rolling shock waves through my chest, but that's manageable as well. It's chronic but not constant. My only permanent external scars will be my three little freckle-like tattoos: one in the middle of my chest and one on each side of my body (shown in the last picture). And I'm actually kind of fond of them.
Imaging and Breast Cancer
http://news.yahoo.com/breast-cancer-patients-face-more-imaging-tests-today-140313914.html
Interesting, I read this after I had a chest x-ray this morning.
During the first couple weeks of trying to determine my diagnosis, I had an ultrasound, mammogram, and MRI. One thing that this article doesn't mention, though, is the need for patients to sometimes demand tests. My initial visit to my gynecologist ended with the nurse practitioner telling me that my lump "didn't feel like cancer" and the tests would most likely confirm that. I'm very happy I decided to push for the imaging right away instead of waiting and seeing if the lump was going to change.
Interesting, I read this after I had a chest x-ray this morning.
During the first couple weeks of trying to determine my diagnosis, I had an ultrasound, mammogram, and MRI. One thing that this article doesn't mention, though, is the need for patients to sometimes demand tests. My initial visit to my gynecologist ended with the nurse practitioner telling me that my lump "didn't feel like cancer" and the tests would most likely confirm that. I'm very happy I decided to push for the imaging right away instead of waiting and seeing if the lump was going to change.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Giuliana's mastectomy decision
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Wednesday, December 14, 2011
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