December 4, 2007

Today I found out that my cancer is stage 2A based on several factors: no cancer was found in the lymph nodes, and the tumor is 2.1 cm (the range for 2A is 2-5 cm, so I'm just going to go ahead and call it stage 1B). The survival rate for stage 2A, which is considered early stage cancer, is 92%, and in my line of work that's an A! As far as I'm concerned, that sounds exactly like 100%, don't you think? In addition to the lumpectomy, my doctor also took out my gall bladder, inserted a port (for the chemotherapy), and did a biopsy on the cyst on my left ovary which was gloriously negative. Nothing but good news! Amazingly, it was outpatient surgery and I was home that evening. I returned to a home-cooked meal made by the kind-hearted staff at Mile High, a beautiful bouquet of flowers and lots of cards and gifts from my students. Yippee!

November 26, 2007

This is how Hannah and Mimi sleep every night.


Today we learned what I already felt - the cancer has not spread and is contained to the one tumor. Praise God! I am scheduled for a lumpectomy on Friday, November 30 and I'm going to have an ultrasound because Eric suspects that my back and stomach pain are a gall bladder problem. I'm hoping they'll toss in a tummy tuck and some liposuction at the same time. Chris can breathe again, but he still worries - it's hard not to.

November 22, 2007 (click search blog if this is at the top of the page to see more recent posts)

This a picture of the Mammoth ladies on last May's Henderson getaway (just outside Las Vegas) at lovely Lizzie's second home. It was so fantastic to see my good friends again. We ate at an Indian restaurant, drank some margaritas from Gloria's deluxe Jimmy Buffet blender, sat by the pool all day, laughed and talked and caught up, put a few shrimp on the barbie, had a spectacular feast topped off by Lea Ann's killer lemon drops, and danced ourselves silly to old 70s music - Life is good! I can't wait for the next one. I love you all so much!!!


We had Thansksgiving with the Grubes up in Flagstaff with several of their friends and our good friend Ilt. We are so thankful to have such incredible people, Brian and Crickey, close by to lean on right now. It's especially wonderful that Crickey is a surgical nurse- she has been a wealth of knowledge, comfort, and encouragement. Everyone brought something to the feast and it was delicious. The adults attempted a game of Apples to Apples while the kids (all quite young, except Jake) ran amok - big fun. The next day we went to dinner, a movie, and the incredible Valley of Lights for a perfect post-Thanksgiving day. On Saturday, after Chris and Ilt helped Heather and Eric move in to their new home, we gave Ilt the tour of Prescott which included a walk along the Peavine Trail, a visit to the gingerbread village at the Prescott Resort, a walk around our quaint downtown square, and a stop in to the old-fashioned candy store where the kids can fill up little plastic baskets with penny candies.

My emotions are still right on the surface and I find it very difficult to let everyone know what's going on without getting weepy despite my feelings of confidence, hope, and faith. I find it very frustrating because the tears may make people feel more scared than they need to be. I am quite anxious to hear the results of the PET scan.

November 21, 2007

I had a PET scan today to scan my body for any other cancer that may be in my body. I went down to Prescott Valley for my appointment full of hope and faith. After a short wait, I was led out to a trailer and given some radioactive substance and told to rest in a small, dark room for 45 minutes - which should have been quite scary - but instead of fear, I was feeling more peaceful by the moment. I was completely relaxed and had a growing sense of hope. After the radioactivity was sufficiently coursing through my veins, they swaddled me like a baby (I can see why infants like it so much) and put me in the machine. I prayed throughout the scan and felt so sure that nothing was going to be found. It was so relaxing, in fact, that when the technician came in to unwrap me, he said I looked like I thought this was a spa. So I suggested that they could throw in a facial while patients were in there. When I got home, I told Chris, who has been quietly freaking out, to have faith in my faith that everything would be fine. I tried to convince him how sure I felt, but it's difficult to put someone else in touch with what's going on inside of your body. At the dinner table I joked with the kids that I might start crawling up walls and making webs, but Jake quickly reminded me that "you have to be bitten by a radioactive spider to do that mom". Duh!

November 19, 2007

So this whole thing started back in June. I was doing this amazing program with my good friend Brian Grube who directs the summer enrichment program at NAU (Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff) designed to get bright but struggling students to explore higher education. The kids live in the dorms and go to classes three times a day to learn via problem-based education. My group explored the Wupatki Ruins to solve the problem of vandalism and graffiti. At the end of the week, they created and presented a Power Point presentation of their solutions. Amazing and powerful! During that time I was there I felt a lump in my right breast and wasn't too concerned because it felt a lot like the cystic changes that occur from time to time. But when I got back to Prescott after a month at NAU, I decided to get my annual mammogram and check it out. A week later the results arrived in the mail which said everything was normal. Meanwhile, I had many menopausal symptoms so I had been trying to find an OB-GYN but couldn't get an appointment until October. Since the mammogram was negative, I felt like I could wait and chalked up the lump to menopausal cystic changes. I was also having a lot of stomach pain and upset linked with back pain that I felt were a little more pressing than the lump. In addition, I had tendonitis from the move to our new home,so by the time I went to meet my doctor (actually a nurse practitioner in the same office) on October 29th, I had a host of problems to talk about. She felt the lump and ordered a more comprehensive (i.e. more painful!) mammogram and some bloodwork. So now I'm beginning to worry (a useless pursuit) and on November 5th I heard from the nurse practitioner. She was concerned about a high white blood cell count but my pap smear was negative for cervical cancer, so that was a relief, but then she ordered a pelvic ultrasound to explore what was causing the symptoms of menopause (blood tests revealed that I was not menopausal). On November 7 I met with the doctor who had no answers and no results in my chart about the ultrasound. She also ordered an endometrial biopsy for December 12 (which seemed much too far away as the word biopsy is far too closely linked with the word cancer. She promised a phone call by Friday. No call came and the fears mounted. By November 13 Chris called our friend Eric Nelson, who is a surgeon, to get some advice about how to get some answers. It turns out that Eric specializes in breasts and hands (an interesting combination don't you think) and he made an appointment for that very day. I went in, he did an ultrasound, saw the mass that had not shown up in both mammograms, and did a biopsy. Two days later, Chris walked into my classroom after school and I knew he was going to tell me my suspicions had been realized. We immediately went to Eric's office where I proceeded to fall apart in torrents of fear and terror. He did everything to reassure both of us, but thoughts of my mom's battle with cancer were blazing in my mind. He told us that all the other things I was going through could not be related to the breast cancer, but his wisdom couldn't penetrate the overwhelming fear that the cancer was everywhere. Before we left, he held our hands and prayed with us, and in that moment I knew we were in the best hands possible.
We decided that night to tell Jake and Hannah the next day because we knew we would have to make a lot of phone calls and we didn't want to hide things from the kids. The next day was Friday and I struggled through every moment of school. I was afraid that the dam would burst at any second so I kept to myself and avoided talking to anyone (except my students of course). During my prep period I went online to find information about how to talk to the kids about cancer and I came across Deanna Favre's website. The information I found there was surprisingly comforting and calming. I felt better immediately and started exploring more of her site which had an entire section devoted to survivors. It was a pivotal moment because I decided then and there that survival was the only option and I would focus all my efforts on stories of hope instead of fear. That night we sat the kids down and told them. Of course, my plan to maintain composure to avoid scaring them dissolved immediately into an ugly cry. When I finally got the words out, it was absolutely gut-wrenching. I knew that their initial reaction would be fear because of their grandma's death, but Chris and I reassured them that, first of all, I cry at phone commercials and Extreme Makeover Home Edition every Sunday night, and that I wasn't crying out of fear of the cancer, but rather I was worried about how they would feel. I regrouped pretty quickly and we were able to reassure them that I am a much healthier and stronger person than grandma was and I was ready for a fight. Their fears rapidly dissipated and we began to talk about what was in store for me and our family. They were amazing and thirty minutes later we went to see Enchanted for a family movie night out and by the time they went to bed, they were calm and content that mom was going to kick some serious cancer booty! I wrote in my gratitude journal that night:

• I found out I have cancer today - I have so much to fight for, I am a survivor, I have a strong, loving family, I have a huge support network, and I have an amazing husband.

November 18, 2007

Today is my 49th birthday and I celebrated with a wonderful day full of joy. We went for a hike, scrambled on the rocks at Watson Lake, and chatted for a bit with a nice couple from Switzerland. I received a call from my wonderful aunt Doris who made me laugh (as always) and filled me with even more hope. I chatted with my dad who, after losing my mom to breast cancer just two and half years ago, was feeling unnerved. It was good to be able to reassure him that I felt positive and hopeful which is far more contagious than fear. My family, which has always been amazing, buoyed my spirits and offered more support than I could imagine. Lori was the first to hear the news and thankfully my lifeline to the rest of my family. At that point, I could do little more than squeak out the words, "I have cancer", so Lori was a lifesaver as communication central. She was so calm and reassuring and took a huge burden off my shoulders Even though I have a huge family, it was only mere minutes before the calls of love and concern were pouring in. Gerry called from New York and offered to fly out immediately, and all my brothers and sisters offered their help in whatever form I needed it. I know I can call on them at a moment's notice, and they will be here. I am truly blessed.

November 17, 2007

After talking with my family and friends (more like sobbing really), I have completely abandoned the whole fear thing and have decided to switch to faith. I have always known how blessed I am to have so many wonderful, caring, and fantastic people in my life, but now I am completely blown away by the power that it creates. I've got a full team of supporters who will be with me every step of the way.

Linda reminded me that God wants me to live, to be healed, and she immediately launched into full throttle prayer warrior mode. Her words comforted me instantly and I let go of the fear right then. I had a flashback to the day I found out I was pregnant with Hannah three weeks after my snowmobile accident - sheer panic. I'd had so many xrays, procedures, and drugs and I was terrified about how it would all affect my baby. Identically to my situation this time around, two days later, I found peace in my faith and I knew that I was not spared that day to lose a baby. We were both meant to survive.

November 15, 2007

Three days before I turn 49 and I just found out I have breast cancer. I've had so many health issues lately that every evil thought possible creeps into my head. Is the tumor I have felt for the past 4 months just the tip of the iceberg? I fight the thoughts with everything I've got, but they just keep coming. Chris is terrified too, but he is the one taking care of all things medical right now while I'm in this fog. Most terrifying - somehow we have to break the news to Jake and Hannah, who lost grandma to cancer just two and a half years ago. I don't want to scare them but I won't keep the truth from them.