Ship's Blog: February, 2008

As predicted, my update on my visit to the surgeon is anti-climactic (and Lisa, you're right - that's ideal for doctor's appointments and air travel). Hysterical amnesia it is! That is to say, my surgeon isn't worried about the lump on my right breast and thinks it is scar tissue. I figure, she's been doing this longer than me, so I will trust her on that.

My left breast, of course, is just plain acting out. She said that on large-breasted women, radiation sometimes makes the breast tissue reluctant to heal, and that seems to be what's going on. Her advice was to put a lot of antibiotic ointment on it, bandage it, and wait for it to close up again. (I did not ask if it might re-open again, because...well...I want to assume the answer is no and never think about this again.)

"We should probably do a round of antibiotics just to be safe," she added, before wrapping up.

So, as expected, I'm back to taking Keflex, the antibiotic that smells like poop. I wonder if I'll catch Lola trying to bury the bottle again? I wouldn't blame her if she tried!

Oh, and...I didn't get a mammogram; I'll do that in a month, when I see the surgeon for a re-check and get my follow-up with the medical oncologist. Until then, I appear to be clear! Except, of course, for my left breast, which it appears I can't take anywhere.

Thank you to everyone who sent me good wishes. That means a lot to me.

(Note: parts of this are not for the squeamish)

Last Tuesday, after I left a message my surgeon's office about the new lump I found in my breast, I got the best customer service ever from UCSF. I know I bitch about their horrid customer service all the time, but this time was different. My surgeon's nurse called me back within 30 minutes of my message, and within 10 more minutes, she called me back with an appointment for the following Monday (today). That's lightning fast compared to anything I've experienced before.

However, by Tuesday night, I decided that I had made a big deal about nothing. The lump, which is not on the breast that had cancer, is close enough to the site of a surgical biopsy to be scar tissue. I have no idea how I never noticed this scar tissue before, because I certainly noticed the scar tissue on the other breast. But, you know, I bet that's what it is and I'm just suffering from hysterical amnesia.

As soon as I figured this out, I thought, oh, gee, this is going to be so embarrassing. I am going to waste my surgeon's precious time, having her check out a non-suspicious lump that I magically never noticed in the two years I must have had it. I am insane!  Read more »

A couple of weeks ago, my buddy Kelly Kilmer came up from Southern California to teach classes at my favorite store, Stamper's Warehouse. She teaches there several times a year and I always look forward to her arrival. Before her classes began, we spent a fun afternoon shopping for art paper and Japanese books in Berkeley and San Francisco and, of course, had dinner. Lots of laughing.

But what I was most looking forward to was her class called "About Face." That's where she showed us how to paint over photos and magazines pictures. I like to include faces and figures in my collages and other art work, but because I don't yet know how to draw them well, I have to rely on Photoshop artistry to get what I want. That's fine, but sometimes I want to work with paint instead. Kelly's method gave me another tool for my toolbox, one that I'm sure to have fun with.

Here's what I created in class, from magazine pictures:

First try

Second try

Third try  Read more »

So I decided to get dressed and spent a quick moment, as I always do, collecting the clothes that I want to wear for the day. I put them in a pile in the bathroom, took off my jim-jams, and got in the shower. As I do.

But when I got out of the shower and started to get dressed, things began to go wrong. I reached for my brand new teal top and accidentally picked up the teal jim-jams I'd only recently removed. Oops, that's not a fashion statement. I dropped those and redirected myself to the other stack of clothes. Grabbing what I thought was my v-neck top off of that, I discovered that I'd put my teal workout pants into the pile by mistake.

How did I make this mistake? Because they are all the exact same shade of teal. EXACTLY!

I went out into the bedroom to find my top and finish getting dressed. Then I stopped and took a good long look around me. You know, at those metallic lagoon walls I painted a little over two years ago.  Read more »

I've written previously about my apathetic relationship with my cell phone - I have one, but unlike many people, I do not live with it glued to my hip. Well, when I'm out and about, it's by my side. But I'm a Radical Homebody, which means I'm not out and about so much, and at home? It seems it is never in the same room as me.

This would not be a problem if people just called my home or business line, but certain people-particularly doctors-always call my cell phone. This makes sense because if they called my home phone, you just know that it would be at the very moment that I left the house for my weekly drive around the block, just to keep my car battery charged. Okay, I am not quite that bad. But missing the call from a doctor is the kiss of death, you are never going to be able to call back and actually reach them. You missed your chance.

So, it seems like several times a week I am running at breakneck speed to find my handbag with my cell phone, before the call goes to voicemail...or walking around with a handful of phones as I move from room to room, making sure I don't miss a call on any one of my three lines. It's crazy. It's mad. How do other people do it?

I can only assume they have something I don't. Pockets.  Read more »

Saturday morning, out of the blue, I started thinking that I might get cancer again. Actually, I was convinced of it and in no time my thoughts became a runaway train, rocketing down a track that quickly wound from my diagnosis to my sad, eventual death.

Those of you who know me well also know that this is very unlike me. When going through cancer treatment, I never once thought I was going to die. Not even when first diagnosed. I rolled my eyes at anyone who suggested such a thing. But this Saturday? That clock was ticking!

My rational mind tried to get a word in edgewise and point out that perhaps PTSD might be influencing my thoughts. Perhaps I might want to take some anti-anxiety medication. But I ignored rational thought, instead making notes on where I might want to have my ashes scattered and thinking, wow, I better start cleaning house. (Because in my mind, whether you are going on a short vacation or going on the Big One, that's what you do first: clean house.) I better leave instructions. I better do some repairs around the house. And what about all those boxes in the garage? I can't leave Kathy to have to sort through those! Maybe I should just dump them all. What to do, what to do....

Oh no, stress isn't getting to me. I am cool as a cucumber. Yep.  Read more »

My dear readers…I apologize. I have neglected you horribly. Blog reader Lisa recently sent up a flare reminding me that some of you really would like to read a new post, and so here I am, working to get back into the groove. So Lisa, this one is going out to you…hee! I just like saying that, it makes me sound like I have a radio show.

This first post will be serious, because I have decided to be brave and tell everyone why I have really been so quiet. I didn't plan on sharing this, but…gosh, I realized that I tell you guys about my breasts, so, why not this?

As all of you know, life can, at times, be a wee bit more difficult to get through than usual. That's where I'm at right now. But maybe, it's a more than a "wee bit" difficult.

You see, years ago, I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). You know, the kind of disorder that sometimes develops in people who have been traumatized in war situations, natural disasters, or at the hands of individual human beings. For me, PTSD was the result of having a surprising number of Very Bad Things happen earlier in my life, things that I could not contain in my psyche at the time they happened.  Read more »