It's Sunday afternoon. We have just returned from a great hike and a stop at Baskin Robbins. I am taking it easy on the couch while writing this update.
This past week has been an intense time of planning and gathering information. A few logistical items to note: My dear Aunt C. has agreed to drive with us out to Seattle and my powerhouse mother-in-law is coming to be with us for a week when we return to Bozeman. I have asked my dad to do all the internet searching to find us a rental house to stay in while we are there. It truly takes a team to make this all work out. So thanks, team.
Someone did a very kind thing for me this week. A friend of a friend whom I have never met just had a double mastectomy at the beginning of May. She is my age, with 2 little kids. She took the initiative to call me up and came to my house to visit. She showed me her chest and what the surgery looked like 6 weeks afterwards. And I have to say, it's not nearly as bad as I had imagined. Granted, she had her reconstruction at the same time as the mastectomy. But it relieved an enormous amount of anxiety on my part to see what this actually looked like. I was very touched by her bravery to reach out to a complete stranger.
On a more difficult note, this week I also met with a fertility specialist. We haven't really shared this with many people, but we have been trying to have another child for awhile. A doctor finally identified the source of the problem as a physical blockage. In January it was removed, and all systems were go. We were moving forward with "The Beta Project" when this cancer diagnosis hit. As we have learned more about chemotherapy, we are both reeling with the news that it will probably leave me sterile. This news is probably more devastating than dealing with the loss of my breasts. There is one option available to us, which is to use IVF techniques to freeze embryos and use them in several years when I am cancer-free. So along with all the other decisions that we are making, we are trying to navigate this one as well. It's complicated and difficult and requires us to do a lot of soul-searching in a very short amount of time. If we decide to move forward with this, we will need to return to Seattle after the surgery and prior to chemotherapy for the procedure. There is a window of time in August when this could happen. We would appreciate prayers for wisdom and honesty as we deal with this. We need clear heads to make the best decision that we can.
Thankfully, the Livestrong Foundation runs a program that helps cancer survivors with the financial costs of preserving fertility called Fertile Hope. If we decide to go this route, the Foundation will help to offset the costs. Over the past week or two, I have received amazing information and personal advice from their staff on this topic and more. I can't say enough good things about this organization and am looking forward to supporting them in the future.
Our workday this Saturday was a bit of a bust, but we did get some good work done and had a good time in the process. We had one dear friend plus my brother show up. Our timing seems to have coincided with the first nice summer weekend in Montana. And our PR wasn't that great either. So we will try again on July 10th. In a perfect world, Brett and I would spend 2 weeks in Hawaii while a complete team of carpenters finished the house. But since we don't live in that world, we will keep working away.
Grace has just invitated me to play Pokemon Cards. So I will sign off for now.
Love,
Susan
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Upcoming Dates
We have a date set for surgery: Wednesday, July 21st. We will drive out to Seattle on the weekend prior (18th) and drive back the weekend afterwards (24th.) The surgery itself takes only 3 hours and requires only 1 night in the hospital.
I am taking some comfort in the fact that it is 4 weeks away. It gives us time to prepare, and it means I must not be in really bad shape if it can wait that long.
I have been really touched and uplifted by everyone's emails, phone calls, and cards. Thank you. I wanted to let everyone know that I have read and listened to them all and wish I could respond to each one personally. I had a dear friend ask me today if I had offended her because I hadn't responded to a recent email. Goodness, no! If you are thinking the same thing, the answer is the same! No one has offended me! I am just in over my head right now.
Cancer is like taking on another full time job. I am researching treatment options, changing my eating and cooking habits, making appointments, navigating bills and insurance, continuing to be a wife and mom, get sleep, meditate, and exercise. And work my real, full time job at the same time. Whew! It's a lot to handle. So please keep sending messages. Your encouragement keeps me going.
Many people have been so kind to reach out to us and ask how they can help. One of the things we are trying to do right now is prepare as much as we can for the long, upcoming months of treatment. We would like to get our house in better shape to lift some of the mental weight that we feel. Before the cancer hit, Brett and I were steadily working on finishing our house together; working on projects every weekend and many evenings. But now those projects have been put on hold.
We would like to host 2 workdays and invite anyone who is interested to come and help; Saturday, June 26th and Saturday, July 10th. Please come if you can! We will provide food and drink and will get started at 9 am each day. If you are thinking of coming, please let us know so that we can estimate food and building supplies. We will have all the tools and supplies ready to go. If you would like to help, but can't come on these days, we surely would welcome the help whenever you can make it.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This week, our assistant priest and deacon came to pray with us. I mentioned to her that we can't do this on our own. She very wisely said, "You know, I don't think we are meant to." Brett and I are used to handling so much of life on our own. Asking for help is not something we are familiar with. But already, we see that making it through this difficult time takes a group effort. And we are extremely grateful for your love, support, and help.
Love,
Susan
I am taking some comfort in the fact that it is 4 weeks away. It gives us time to prepare, and it means I must not be in really bad shape if it can wait that long.
I have been really touched and uplifted by everyone's emails, phone calls, and cards. Thank you. I wanted to let everyone know that I have read and listened to them all and wish I could respond to each one personally. I had a dear friend ask me today if I had offended her because I hadn't responded to a recent email. Goodness, no! If you are thinking the same thing, the answer is the same! No one has offended me! I am just in over my head right now.
Cancer is like taking on another full time job. I am researching treatment options, changing my eating and cooking habits, making appointments, navigating bills and insurance, continuing to be a wife and mom, get sleep, meditate, and exercise. And work my real, full time job at the same time. Whew! It's a lot to handle. So please keep sending messages. Your encouragement keeps me going.
Many people have been so kind to reach out to us and ask how they can help. One of the things we are trying to do right now is prepare as much as we can for the long, upcoming months of treatment. We would like to get our house in better shape to lift some of the mental weight that we feel. Before the cancer hit, Brett and I were steadily working on finishing our house together; working on projects every weekend and many evenings. But now those projects have been put on hold.
We would like to host 2 workdays and invite anyone who is interested to come and help; Saturday, June 26th and Saturday, July 10th. Please come if you can! We will provide food and drink and will get started at 9 am each day. If you are thinking of coming, please let us know so that we can estimate food and building supplies. We will have all the tools and supplies ready to go. If you would like to help, but can't come on these days, we surely would welcome the help whenever you can make it.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This week, our assistant priest and deacon came to pray with us. I mentioned to her that we can't do this on our own. She very wisely said, "You know, I don't think we are meant to." Brett and I are used to handling so much of life on our own. Asking for help is not something we are familiar with. But already, we see that making it through this difficult time takes a group effort. And we are extremely grateful for your love, support, and help.
Love,
Susan
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Introduction to Beautiful and Strong
I thought I would write a proper introduction to my blog; something like a Grand Opening or a manifesto.
When I first shared my diagnosis, several friends recommended the CaringBridge website as a way to post how I was doing. The first thought that ran through my mind was "CaringBridge is for sick people! And that's not me!" I decided a blog was better. Because I believe that this will be a bump in the road for me. In 30 or 40 years I will look back on 2010 and think, "Boy, that was a very difficult time." I wanted to create a place to update friends and family on my adventures and expeditions for the years to come. I wanted a place that will still be here once cancer is a long-gone memory in my life. I don't want an illness to be the defining feature of my communication.
The name "Beautiful and Strong" comes from my husband, Brett. Every morning before Grace goes off to school he asks her, "What are you going to be today, Grace?" And she says, "Beautiful and strong, Daddy!" just like he taught her. And when he picks her up from school he always asks her to name the specific things she did that were beautiful and strong. So I'm borrowing the phrase from a good source.
Writing a blog is new for me. I'm not used to publicly broadcasting my thoughts and feelings to the world at large. I tend to be a more private person, and the internet-age trend of divulging every emotional up and down seems a bit tacky to me.
But I have realized a few things lately. First, our little family can't do this alone. We need help. And people won't know what we need unless we say something. Secondly, I have gained a lot of strength and courage from the love and encouragement everyone has sent my way over the past couple of weeks. Being able to admit weakness and celebrate triumph with everyone as a group means I am not isolated and don't have to do this alone. So thank you for letting me do this.
I plan to use this blog not only as a source of communication, but as an emotional outlet. Most of the time, things will probably be on a very normal, even keel. But I am sure there will be times of raw revelation. Have faith that these times are a normal part of life. You don't need to fix them. And probably within a few days I will have regained my equilibrium. I can't spend too much of my time worrying about who I might offend with random swear words or momentary lapses in faith. So feel free not to read this blog if something I write makes you feel uncomfortable.
Also, this is fairly personal stuff. I envision my audience to be close friends and family who want to know what's going on. I would prefer it not be forwarded to a large audience of people who don't know me. If you have put me on a prayer list, please, please do not send this blog link to them. I do not want to hear from your Great Aunt Mildred in Ft. Lauderdale, whom I have never met. Only people who know me as a flesh and blood person should be reading this. Thanks for understanding.
Of course, the obvious "personal stuff" that I'm talking about here are my breasts. It will be impossible to write about breast cancer without talking about them. Great. Could it be any more intimate and vulnerable? I remember when I was 16 and my grandma checked out my chest and commented how much I had grown since last year. I was mortified. So posting this in an online forum has that same feeling. I don't mean to embarrass anyone, but there's no way around it. I have put some thought into this and have decided that if my openness leads to early detection and positive outcomes for my younger cousins, my friends, and my daughter, then I will choose to talk about it rather than be quiet.
One request: I welcome your prayers and am very thankful for them. But please do not post typed prayers here or on Facebook as it makes me feel very uncomfortable. Everyone is different, but for me, faith is a very quiet and personal thing and not something I care to make public. Thanks.
This will probably be the last time I link the blog to my Facebook page, as FB feels like too public of a forum for this stuff. Instead, I will create posts here without sending out a notice. It may take me some time to figure out the best way to do this, so bear with me.
If you've read this all the way to the end, thanks for staying with me. It's going to be quite a ride.
Be beautiful and strong.
Love,
Susan
When I first shared my diagnosis, several friends recommended the CaringBridge website as a way to post how I was doing. The first thought that ran through my mind was "CaringBridge is for sick people! And that's not me!" I decided a blog was better. Because I believe that this will be a bump in the road for me. In 30 or 40 years I will look back on 2010 and think, "Boy, that was a very difficult time." I wanted to create a place to update friends and family on my adventures and expeditions for the years to come. I wanted a place that will still be here once cancer is a long-gone memory in my life. I don't want an illness to be the defining feature of my communication.
The name "Beautiful and Strong" comes from my husband, Brett. Every morning before Grace goes off to school he asks her, "What are you going to be today, Grace?" And she says, "Beautiful and strong, Daddy!" just like he taught her. And when he picks her up from school he always asks her to name the specific things she did that were beautiful and strong. So I'm borrowing the phrase from a good source.
Writing a blog is new for me. I'm not used to publicly broadcasting my thoughts and feelings to the world at large. I tend to be a more private person, and the internet-age trend of divulging every emotional up and down seems a bit tacky to me.
But I have realized a few things lately. First, our little family can't do this alone. We need help. And people won't know what we need unless we say something. Secondly, I have gained a lot of strength and courage from the love and encouragement everyone has sent my way over the past couple of weeks. Being able to admit weakness and celebrate triumph with everyone as a group means I am not isolated and don't have to do this alone. So thank you for letting me do this.
I plan to use this blog not only as a source of communication, but as an emotional outlet. Most of the time, things will probably be on a very normal, even keel. But I am sure there will be times of raw revelation. Have faith that these times are a normal part of life. You don't need to fix them. And probably within a few days I will have regained my equilibrium. I can't spend too much of my time worrying about who I might offend with random swear words or momentary lapses in faith. So feel free not to read this blog if something I write makes you feel uncomfortable.
Also, this is fairly personal stuff. I envision my audience to be close friends and family who want to know what's going on. I would prefer it not be forwarded to a large audience of people who don't know me. If you have put me on a prayer list, please, please do not send this blog link to them. I do not want to hear from your Great Aunt Mildred in Ft. Lauderdale, whom I have never met. Only people who know me as a flesh and blood person should be reading this. Thanks for understanding.
Of course, the obvious "personal stuff" that I'm talking about here are my breasts. It will be impossible to write about breast cancer without talking about them. Great. Could it be any more intimate and vulnerable? I remember when I was 16 and my grandma checked out my chest and commented how much I had grown since last year. I was mortified. So posting this in an online forum has that same feeling. I don't mean to embarrass anyone, but there's no way around it. I have put some thought into this and have decided that if my openness leads to early detection and positive outcomes for my younger cousins, my friends, and my daughter, then I will choose to talk about it rather than be quiet.
One request: I welcome your prayers and am very thankful for them. But please do not post typed prayers here or on Facebook as it makes me feel very uncomfortable. Everyone is different, but for me, faith is a very quiet and personal thing and not something I care to make public. Thanks.
This will probably be the last time I link the blog to my Facebook page, as FB feels like too public of a forum for this stuff. Instead, I will create posts here without sending out a notice. It may take me some time to figure out the best way to do this, so bear with me.
If you've read this all the way to the end, thanks for staying with me. It's going to be quite a ride.
Be beautiful and strong.
Love,
Susan
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Some good news
A small bit of good news we received this week...
I am not a carrier for either breast cancer gene (BRCA1 of BRCA2). This was of some comfort, especially for Grace's sake.
At this point, I'll take any good news I can get.
I am not a carrier for either breast cancer gene (BRCA1 of BRCA2). This was of some comfort, especially for Grace's sake.
At this point, I'll take any good news I can get.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Test Results
The surgeon called last night with the test results. Unfortunately, it's bad news. The 2 other spots on my right are also cancer. One is only 6 mm, the other are calcifications that classify as DCIS.
This means that 3 of the 4 quadrants have cancer and they will need to do a mastectomy. At this point, I am seriously considering having both breasts removed and reconstructed. Because of the density of my tissue, they cannot catch any tumors with mammography. For my own peace of mind, it may be best to take both now and minimize future worry.
The surgeon did say that even with these 3 small spots, I could still be classified as Stage 1. They won't know for sure until they do surgery and can check the lymph nodes. Every moment I pray, 'Dear God, let those lymph nodes be clean."
We are planning to have the surgery done in Seattle. We have yet to schedule anything, but the surgeons' tentative guess was about the first week of July.
Today and tomorrow I am off work with Grace. We are enjoying some sewing projects and finishing planting the garden.
Love,
Susan
This means that 3 of the 4 quadrants have cancer and they will need to do a mastectomy. At this point, I am seriously considering having both breasts removed and reconstructed. Because of the density of my tissue, they cannot catch any tumors with mammography. For my own peace of mind, it may be best to take both now and minimize future worry.
The surgeon did say that even with these 3 small spots, I could still be classified as Stage 1. They won't know for sure until they do surgery and can check the lymph nodes. Every moment I pray, 'Dear God, let those lymph nodes be clean."
We are planning to have the surgery done in Seattle. We have yet to schedule anything, but the surgeons' tentative guess was about the first week of July.
Today and tomorrow I am off work with Grace. We are enjoying some sewing projects and finishing planting the garden.
Love,
Susan
Saturday, June 5, 2010
News from Seattle
Hi all...
Welcome to my first blog. It's been a crazy time for the Tallmans, and almost impossible to let everyone know what's going on. So here we are.
A quick update:
We are in Seattle. We drove out on Thursday and met with the multi-disciplinary cancer care team at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance on Friday afternoon. This team includes a surgeon, oncologist, and radiologist. I am really happy to be here. My surgeon is a woman who specializes in breast cancer in young women and the team is very compassionate and knowledgeable. The oncologist is also a woman and a professor at UW medical school. They presented us with the facts that we have so far:
When we first arrived, we stayed at the SCCA house, which is a "hotel" for patients. It was nice and convenient, but depressing. The walls were sterile and it felt more like a hospital than a home away from home. Thanks to Priceline and my smooth-operator husband, we are now at the Westin, in a suite on the top floor with a view of the sound, for the same price. Yep, we're living the dream.
I will write more as we have more information.
Love,
Susan
Welcome to my first blog. It's been a crazy time for the Tallmans, and almost impossible to let everyone know what's going on. So here we are.
A quick update:
We are in Seattle. We drove out on Thursday and met with the multi-disciplinary cancer care team at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance on Friday afternoon. This team includes a surgeon, oncologist, and radiologist. I am really happy to be here. My surgeon is a woman who specializes in breast cancer in young women and the team is very compassionate and knowledgeable. The oncologist is also a woman and a professor at UW medical school. They presented us with the facts that we have so far:
- An identified tumor of 1 cm on the right. Estrogen and progesterone receptor positive. HER2 negative. The assumption is that this is Stage 1, but this can't be confirmed until after surgery.
- An unidentified 5mm lump on the right. This will be biopsied on Monday.
- Calcifications on the right. These will also be biopsied on Monday.
- After the additional biopsy results, the surgeon will be able to determine if we can do a lumpectomy or if mastectomy is the only option.
- The oncologist recommended all sorts of various chemotherapies and hormonal therapies that were very difficult to hear about. It made me cry. Their goal (as well as mine) is to prevent any recurrence. None of us care too much about the great 5 year survival rates for early stage breast cancer. (100%) What we care about is the 30 to 40 year survival rate. Because I am young, they want to be more aggressive and even admitted that their recommendations might qualify as "over treatment." We have some tough decisions to make. Right now we are gathering information to make the best decision we can.
When we first arrived, we stayed at the SCCA house, which is a "hotel" for patients. It was nice and convenient, but depressing. The walls were sterile and it felt more like a hospital than a home away from home. Thanks to Priceline and my smooth-operator husband, we are now at the Westin, in a suite on the top floor with a view of the sound, for the same price. Yep, we're living the dream.
I will write more as we have more information.
Love,
Susan
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