Mammogram Time

It’s been months since I’ve updated this blog with all of the fascinating goings-on in my life. Why haven't I written you ask? Well, don’t get me wrong - I don’t mean to sound unappreciative - but it's because I really didn’t think people actually “followed” my blog, or even if they did, I thought certainly they wouldn’t care much about it after my treatment was done. Boy was I wrong. I can’t believe how many times I’ve been asked about it, or how recently I’ve been told by someone that they had been to my site only to be disappointed that I hadn’t written anything lately.   I'm flattered. Thank you. It just so happens that the time is right to insert a couple of new comments for your reading pleasure. I had an appointment with my oncologist this week. And I cried. I cried because not more than a day before my appointment, I learned that an acquaintance’s mother died from breast cancer. News like that brings it home and all of the emotion comes crashing down again. I get distressed about the very thought of dying, despite my aspirations to be an old woman when I grow up (citation needed). The outcome of my doc’s appointment was a recommendation for genetic testing and an order for a new mammogram. There’s a palpable spot on my "good" boob. I think it’s just the valve from my implant. . . maybe the implant shifted. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I thought about the lump I felt on my other originally-cancerous-boob, which as we all know, turned out NOT to be the valve, but rather the recurrence of breast cancer that led to this blog. Surely lightning won’t strike three times, but better to be safe than sorry. So I’m trying to get myself scheduled for new pictures. Apparently there’s a catch to it now. I was told today that the Women’s Imaging Center that I’ve been going to for the last six or seven years isn’t part of my insurance network. Here's the twist: it’s the same insurance I’ve had for the last four or five years that used to cover my screenings! I have to scramble now to obtain pre-authorization before the procedure will be covered. Is this an ominous sign of things to come in our health care system?

Let it Flow

Any gentlemen reading my blog might want to skip this post -- especially if you're my brother-in-law, Andrew, who rolls his eyes whenever the conversation turns to female issues. Of all the things in the world one can dream of real or imaginary, I had a dream about menstruating. Yes, menstruating. Most women I know dread getting their period each month, but in my dream, I was excited - make that downright overjoyed - to finally have mine back!! I can think of plenty of women who'd consider me crazy to wish I had a period. But I do. I feel like I was robbed. If I hadn't had cancer the first time, maybe Stephanie would have a brother or sister. And now having cancer a second time, I'm pretty sure our family size is sealed. But clearly if I'm dreaming about dispensing eggs and having a womb that prepares for it, maybe it will come true.

Happy Birthday, Happy Lifeday

Today is my sister Jennifer's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JEN! Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of being told I have breast cancer again. As promised when I started writing this blog, I'm still here to tell you about it. It's a good thing Doreen Gentzler isn't coming over for a before-and-after segment (you might recall she was on my doorstep when the "you have cancer" phone call came last year) because I don't look anything like that young, hip, sexy mama of yester-year that you see in her newscast video of me. Nothing can erase the wear-and-tear that the chemo put on my body over the past year, but like it or not, it's what God gave me, or should I say, saved of me, and that's what matters. So I raise another glass, baby. Life rolls on.

The New Dollard Manor

It's been a month since we moved to our new digs in Clifton, VA, and I'm just now past the middle of a mess. We've been living with boxes strewn about, tons of laundry to wash and glassware and china to dust off (I wanted to make sure everything was clean before putting it away). There are continuous piles of trash, donations, and recyclables to be disposed of properly. Our pictures and mirrors are currently hung wherever a nail already existed (and believe me, the locations make no sense, so when you visit, keep in mind it's not my decorating strategy). The bathrooms all needed sanitizing, and the carpets are more stained than anything I've ever seen in my 20 years as a Realtor. We steam-cleaned them for now, but they need to be replaced. And did I mention the paint colors? You have to see it to believe it. Again, we're living with it for the time being, but repainting is at the top of the list of things to do alongside replacing the carpeting.

We haven't even begun to tackle the outside of the house. I'm amazed by the amount of debris and abandoned garden "chachka" (or tchotchke?) we keep finding all over the place. But a comprehensive walk through and clean-up of the property will have to wait until Spring now that the leaves are down.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not complaining...really. I'm just re-living out loud how enormous the task of moving turned out to be. It's been worth it. I love my new house. We feel right at home here with 6 bedrooms and 6 acres for a family of three. What in the world possessed us to buy such a property, you ask? Well, because (a) we have a large extended family that we want to accommodate; (b) we like to party (as everyone knows) and the house lends itself to that; (c) after two episodes of cancer, I deserve it; (d) it was a good deal; (e) I wanted room for my dog boarding and training business; and (f) Mike needed to experience what a commute is like so that he can relate to 90% of the people who live in Northern VA. Okay, granted we didn't move for the latter reason, but nonetheless, Mike has to drive a little further these days in order to enjoy the peacefulness and outdoor space that he wanted, which we now have. So far everything seems to be working out.

Stay tuned for our open house details. You may actually be invited.

Saddle Up for Breast Cancer

I've lost track of the weeks. It's easy to do when you have the rest of your life ahead of you, and thankfully, I do.

I recently attended the horseback "Ride for the Cure," a breast cancer fundraising event, in Middleburg, VA. Middleburg is located in one of the prettiest areas of Virginia. The beautiful Piedmont. Rolling hills, meadows, vineyards, and expensive horse farms. The town of Middleburg is a quaint, historic, pedestrian-friendly enclave of antique shops, galleries, pubs and fine dining establishments. It was a beautiful day, and to add to the scenery, the leaves were starting to glow in shades of yellow, orange and red.

The Middleburg Ride for the Cure was the first equestrian event of its kind, at least in these parts. There were a reported two hundred horses and riders, including my good friend Deidre and her horse Pippin. Our day started off when Deidre ceremoniously pinned a ribbon on me and we (me, Stephanie, Deidre and Pippin) shared a "survivors walk" tribute around one of the sand riding rings. I was wearing sandals so I took them off to walk barefoot. Apparently that was a first, too - which the announcer pointed out over the loudspeaker, trying to be funny. We also had our picture taken by local reporters. Oh well. So what if I wasn't dressed appropriately? It didn't bother me. It's not like I walked in horse manure or anything.

The horses were decked-out in pink ribbons, braided manes and tails, flowers, pink polo wraps and saddle blankets, and the riders sported pink baseball caps, hats, pins and ribbons, pink hairdo's and t-shirts printed with the names and pictures of women they were honoring. It was really something special to behold.

Stephanie and I went into town for a little lunch and window shopping while the actual ride took place. We (people without horses) weren't allowed to walk. Afterwards, we stood at the start/finish line of the route thanking and welcoming back the riders as they returned from the ride. We were a two-person cheering section. It was fun. Goofy, but fun.

Although Stephanie and I didn't stay, the event continued into the evening with a silent auction, dinner and entertainment. Next year we'll make sure we sign-up for the whole thing. I enjoyed myself so much that I think this will be my top choice when it comes to attendiing an annual "breast cancer" event. Who knows...maybe I'll have a horse to ride in the future. I'm pretty sure I could get used to an equestrian lifestyle. With or without my sandals.

A Pink Surprise!

Whew! The last few weeks have passed with blistering speed! There's so much to tell you about. But first, I want to thank all of you who helped with and attended the "surprise!" party that was thrown for me in my sister Jennifer's backyard. (And yes, for those of you who are wondering, Jen is indeed the same sister who swore Old Red looked good on me during my first battle with breast cancer. So this ploy is just another example not to trust her.)

On the evening in question, Jennifer invited me over for dinner (or maybe I invited myself, I'm not sure). She said they were having happy hour at her house, which is nothing unusual. Her house is located in a good spot for the locals to descend on for such soirees.

To play-up her ruse, she called me wanting to know when I was going to show up. I was running late as is customary. She sounded annoyed, as is customary, and claimed she was going to start dinner without me because they were starving. Okay, no problem. Not wanting to arrive empty handed, I decided to make a quick stop at a nearby 7-11, which turned out to be a NOT-so-quick stop because a street that used to be 2-way was turned into a 1-way and I was detoured through a maze of other streets to get back to my original heading. So I finally arrived, unsuspectingly but even more late, to my destination and the waiting guests.

Jennifer was outside sitting on the front stoop. I assumed the kids were out back and she was sneaking a smoke. She watched me pull up and made fun of my parallel parking. Nothing unusual there. I was completely unaware of any mischief going on. I followed Jen in through the front door where I was greeted by my sister Joan, who was her perky self and all dolled-up in pink. Still nothing out of the ordinary to me. I thought it was a pleasant surprise to see her in town. I figured she had a day off from work and decided to visit. So I remained clueless about the monkey business taking place. I came into the kitchen and saw my friends Deidre and Kelly through the window. They aren't from around town. In a bewildered state I thought, "what are they doing here?" My brain couldn't process it so I walked out the back door in a zombie-like state. And "wow," there it was - a gathering of people boozing it up and hooting "surprise" and "congratulations!" I was stunned. The party-goers were all dressed in pink, there were pink ribbons everywhere, bouquets of pink flowers, and champagne. Lots of champagne! And I made it my mission to circulate among the guests and raise glass-after-glass until it was all gone. Needless to say, I had a fabulous time.

So "THANK YOU," thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who made it to the party and for all of your gifts and well wishes, and especially to my sisters who put it all together. It was such a wonderful "welcome back" to my layperson's life.

YIPPEE

Week 41: my PET scan results are in......TREATMENT WAS A SUCCESS! I should be good for another 5 years, depending on where you get your statistics and whether or not you believe them. For the most part, they say I have anywhere from about a 52% to 64% chance of survival. Personally, I plan to be in the 100% range. That means I can keep on smoking, drinking, spitting, swearing and speeding.  So step aside world... I'm back.

PET Scan Coming Right Up

Week 40: I'm due for my PET scan tomorrow afternoon. I have nothing to fear or so I keep telling myself. I trust my positrons are all emitting normally by now. However, I'm not looking forward to the pain and cramping from having my "bad arm" raised over my head motionless for so long. I cringe just thinking about it.    I think I'm becoming a wuss.

By this time tomorrow, I'll be a radioactive. Wish me luck!

It's a Small World After All

Week 39: We're back from our getaway to sunny - make that scattered showers - Florida. Disney World was fun, but remind me not to have a medical emergency if I'm ever there again.

The day was hot and working its way to muggy when the skies finally opened-up. We had been through the entire park, watched the parade, and just finished a late lunch when we made our way over to the only ride we hadn't been on (a race track with little corvette cars). We were literally next-in-line to get into a car and speed away when the park crew suddenly closed the ride and marched us off of the platform due to lightning that was quickly followed by a downpour. Unlike the rest of the cattle being driven out, we detoured from the exit line and took refuge on some covered bleachers, saving ourselves from getting soaked.

We noticed there was a young person (we weren't sure if it was a male or female, but let's assume male) lying on the ground, face down and not moving, at the bottom of some steps leading out of the ride. A woman working at the ride was crouched by his side trying to protect him from all of the foot traffic. Within a few minutes everyone in line cleared out, and then a couple of other workers showed-up to hold umbrellas over the young man who still was not moving. It must have been at least another ten minutes or more before any medical help arrived, and even then there were no flashing lights and no emergency vehicle, not even a golf cart, to hasten this injured person's treatment. They put a brace around his neck, rolled him on a board, and lifted him onto a stretcher to transport him to wherever...in the pouring rain with umbrella people in tow.

I was appalled by how long it took Disney to respond, especially since they seemed to have such a well-oiled operation in other respects, right down to the obnoxious gift shops you were forced to go through at the end of 70% of the rides. One of the few rides that didn't have a commercial ending was the "It's a Small World" theme ride. There was so much to see on the ride that we went on it twice. The song was still fresh in my mind when we witnessed the above-mentioned accident scene and as everyone waited anxiously for help to arrive:

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears
It's a world of hopes and a world of fears
There's so much that we share that its time we're aware
It's a small world after all...chorus

There is just one moon and one golden sun
And a smile means friendship for everyone
Though the mountains divide and the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all...chorus

I felt so bad for this poor kid whose fun-filled day could very well have ended, heaven forbid, with a paralyzing injury, and for his mother (presumably) who could only stand by and wait helplessly while her child was suffering. The theme song in my head rang true about the world, our connection to eachother, and our human condition. We've all been in similar situations. We know the joy that comes from smiling and having a good time, as well as the pain from our own or a loved one's injury or misfortune. I'm blessed to have great family and friends standing by for me.

We spent another 20 minutes or so waiting for a break in the rain. And the song in my head had gone from profound to annoying by then (you know the kind; like one of those jingles that just won't go away). The rain didn't let up nor did the clouds show any signs of thinning out, so we decided it was time to get a little wet and work our way home. Fortunately the lightning had stopped and the shuttle boats were running, so we hopped-on one and made it back to our hotel pretty quickly. We lucked-out on dicovering that the boats were the way to go. Less people and it was only a 10-15 minute ride compared to the buses that were crowded and took twice as long to go from point A to point B. (Remember to keep that in mind if you ever visit the Magic Kingdom.)

We were pretty much worn out from the day, so once back at our hotel room, we hung out watching tv for a bit and went to bed early. Apparently I've taken up snoring. I was woken-up and chastised by two annoyed roommates all night long.

In addition to snoring, I'm also experiencing chronic pain in my arm for some unknown reason; my eyelashes finished falling out and don't appear to be growing back any time soon; I'm still covered in bruises; my surgery site (from removing the medi-port) isn't healing; my vision is messed up; I'm still tired, and hot flashes are wreaking havoc 24/7. Other than that, I'm doing great. My oncologist told me it'll be about three months before I start getting back to normal. I seem to recall it was more like 5 years. Just in time to have this recurrence. But I shouldn't be complaining. I wasn't taken away on a stretcher and I can move my legs.

Speaking of a recurrence, this September will be the second year in a row that my brother-in-law is walking 26 miles in support of finding a cure for breast cancer (thank you, Michael). Please visit his Avon Foundation webpage for more information:

Michael Blevins - Walk for the Cure

I'd also ask that you say a special prayer for Michael's sister, Cari. Like me, she's had a recurrence of breast cancer; but unlike me, she is having a very difficult struggle. Please keep her in your thoughts. Thank you.

As for me, next on the radar is a PET scan. I'll let you know when it's scheduled.

TTFN.

A Fair Question

Week 38: I took Stephanie to the Water Mine pool at Lake Fairfax in Reston last week. If you've never been there, I highly recommend it. What a great place to have fun and cool off. While there, I was asked by a little preschooler, "are you a man or a woman?" I presume it was my still mildly-bald head that prompted her question. I give her credit for asking. She was confused; she wanted clarification. Simple.  Now if only some of life's other mysteries were so easy to answer.