One Month Out

The Naked Truth - No Makeup and No Hair... but Lots of Joy.

Well, here it is January 9th, exactly one month since my last chemo. It's amazing what a difference 4 weeks can make. I started feeling better right around Christmas, which was the best present I could have asked for. We spent the weekend in Billings with family. It was the first time I had been out of Bozeman in about 6 months, and it was such a feeling of freedom to hit the road and take in some new scenery. For New Years, some friends came over to our house and we rang in 2011 at midnight. So far, I have been able to make it back to the gym for brisk walks on the treadmill. And I've even been out xc skiing and showshoeing with my good friend MJ.

This past week, I attended a 3 day agronomy conference at MSU to maintain my CCA certification. I was very nervous heading into it. I hoped my wig would stay put and that I could make it from 8 am to 5 pm without taking a nap. I did it and had a good time in the process.

It was fantastic to not have to go to the hospital for a few weeks. So it was a bit of a shock to go back this Friday. We were there all morning, meeting with Dr. H to talk about hormone therapy and Dr. K to talk about radiation. Because my cancer tested positive for estrogen receptors, I need to take medicine (tamoxifen) for 5 years that blocks estrogen receptors in the body. We are trying to decide between this standard therapy or joining a research trial with some stronger stuff.

Radiation starts this coming week. Research trials in Holland have shown that radiation of the affected area increases absolute survival by 12%. I will go every day to the hospital, Monday through Friday, for 33 treatments. Once they get me set up, it takes only a few minutes, and the side-effects will be much less than chemo. Fatigue seems to be the main issue. Radiation actually is comforting to me in a strange way. It was a treatment my mom did not get when she was going through breast cancer the first time. So having access to it helps me believe that my outcome will be different than hers.

I'm finally brave enough to post a photo of what I really look like these days. If you look close enough, you can see some hair on my head! At first glance, this doesn't look very pretty. I often shock myself when I look in the mirror. I'm unrecognizable to myself. And I'm too bashful to go out in public without make-up. But for me, this is a great photo, because I'm simply here. I'm tired, but feeling better. My body has taken a lot of abuse, but it has kept on going. My emotions have been all over the place, but I managed to keep it together when it mattered. I always want to remember this picture, because it represents so much. I never want to forget just how hard this fight has been and how precious life is to me.

Little things are miracles. Today I folded laundry. Last night I made pancakes. Grace had the stomach flu this weekend and I was grateful to be strong enough to take care of her. Grateful she didn't have to take care of me. Brett and I painted our sunroom today. I was ecstatic. Look at me! I'm on a ladder!

On Thursday when I saw Dr. H at the hospital I yelled "Jack!" and gave him a huge hug. It was a pure upwelling of emotion. I was as surprised as he was. I seem to be giving out a lot of hugs these days.

On New Years, we asked each other what were the top worst things and the top best things about 2010. I will spare the details on my top worst things. But there was some good in 2010. Here's my list in no particular order.

1. I have an amazing husband who has loved me and supported me through this whole thing. He tells me I'm beautiful even when I look like a POW. (Maybe he needs new glasses?)

2. Even though she has been through a very difficult year and has been asked to handle more than most 9-year olds, Grace is doing very well. It's a relief to see her doing well in school and enjoying her friends and her life.

3. My Aunt Carol. Anyone who knows her will agree. She was our Ace in the Hole when we went to Seattle for surgery. She took care of all three of us and knew just what to do. For example, I didn't know that I would need pajamas with buttons, but she did and had them packed and ready to go.

4. My mother-in-law. She came to our rescue and took great care of us in August. To this day, if I see one of our sock drawers is organized, I silently say "Thank you, Judy."

5. My father-in-law and Patsy. They drove to Montana all the way from New Jersey. Once they got here, I don't think they stopped working. We have a light switch in the basement, thanks to Pete. And pictures on the wall thanks to Patsy. And so much more.

6. Bonnie and Steve. For encouraging us to look into "The China Study" and pursue a plant-based diet. And for all of their kindness.

7. My dad and step-mom Nancy, who told us to go to the Mayo Clinic or Univ Washington when my diagnosis started to get complicated. And for visiting so often and helping out.

8. My brother Jeff. Who shaved his head with me, came over whenever I needed a hug, watched "The Hangover" with me when I needed a laugh, and was thoughtful enough to put a Christmas wreath on our front door.

9. My brother Paul, for shoring me up with Churchill quotes.

10. Janet. For sending me jokes all the way from Uganda.

11. My college friends. For sending hats and scarves. Cheryl, for calling. Elaine, for checking in.

12. Sarah, for all the thoughtful things.

13. My book club and church friends for bringing meals, folding laundry, and lifting me up.

14. Robyn, for understanding.

15. The Foxes, for visits and painting.

16. MJ, for being a shoulder to cry on and a huge support.

17. Aunt Kristen and family for delivering groceries every week. What a huge help.

18. My chemo buddies... everyone who took time to take me to chemo and sit there for hours on end.

And there are so many, many more. The best thing about all of this horrible-ness has been that we have expanded our circle and have grown closer to our family and friends. It's where we should have been all of this time.

Full of gratitude,
Susan