The Tide Is Turning ...

So, no news is good news when it comes to a journey with cancer, eh?! I haven't posted for a month and for the most part, we are doing great. I am learning to live my "new normal" life and so much of this "new normal" is being mom to the greatest gift ever, Blake Michael.

Blake is turning 5 months old next week. November was a super exciting month in our household. We had Blake's first Thanksgiving with his great-grandparents, Blake tasted (and loved) rice cereal, oatmeal, squash, green beans and as of last night, sweet peas. While Grandma Julie was in town babysitting, Blake rolled over from his back to his tummy for the first time. Blake also made it to one of my appointments at Stanford and naturally, he was a huge hit! At Blake's 4-month appointment, he was 13 lbs, which is right in the 50th percentile. Rigo and I are having the time of our life watching Blake giggle his way through his days and nights! He brings us such joy and we love that our parents have been such a big part of his short life too. Poppo spent the entire day today (in the rain nonetheless) putting up Christmas lights around the house for Blake's first Christmas and Grandma Julie helped set the tree and house up to get it ready for Blake and his cousins from Atlanta! November was quite a month, but we have a feeling December is going to be just as exciting, if not more.

To my own surprise, I threw myself back into the workforce this week. Rigo and I talked the matter about going back to work for several weeks and it came down to the first of December being as good of a time as ever. I felt great about being given the chance to get back to "normal life" and going back to work is helping me remember what life was like before cancer. I have to admit, the transition is just that ... it's a transition. Getting ready for the first day back was a little nerve-racking ... wig or no wig, prothesis or natural? Then, getting through the day was another challenge in of itself ... as the cancer-girl and as a new mom. I do not think I will ever be able to fully explain the generosity others have been to me during this journey, especially my colleagues, and as much as I do not mind sharing my experience with others, it is a little weird being back at work as the cancer-girl. I mean, in a way I wish I could crawl into a shell and hide. Then there are moments where I want to scream at the defendants in court and tell them to get their life together, don't they know how lucky they are, they have their health ... I had cancer!!!! Ugh, that part drives me crazy. And then there are the physical aspects of being back at work ... for the most part, I feel fantastic and I truly mean that. I remember just a few weeks ago I was begging God to let me go and here I am, back at work, in court all day long and being mom. Thankfully, there is just a little residual pain that I am feeling. I am having a tough time with a little back pain that I am feeling from overcompensating in my walk and posture due to me protecting my chest. My chest has spasms every now and then (worse in the cold) and it doesn't feel good when it gets bumped. I was reaching across the table in court for a pen and ouch! I need to just get up next time and stop being lazy. And of course, the title goes to the exhaustion ... well, that is probably tied up with the chemo-brain. About 2:00pm, I want to throw the towel in, but I am getting through okay. Luckily, Blake is such an amazing sport, he lets Rigo and I get sleep at night, so I am really just competing with the exhaustion of my "new normal" life.

The logistics of work are that I am technically back full-time at the DA's Office. However, because I am still going through reconstruction, I have to take a day off to go to Stanford and then I give myself one day to recuperate. For instance, this week, we went to Stanford on Wednesday and I took today, Thursday off as a rest day. So I worked this week Monday, Tuesday, Friday. But next week, the doctor is not available, so I am working Monday through Friday, all day because I don't have any appointments. I am back in the same unit I was in when I left, misdemeanors. I only have one jury trial under my belt, so it is my goal to get as many trials as possible in the fastest time I can. I am not assigned to a particular courtroom because of my doctor's appointments, so I am helping in all the misdemeanor courtrooms.

As for reconstruction, let's just say November wasn't just a big month for Blake ... it was for me too. My last post was after my first fill ... the first fill was HELL! I had a terrible reaction to the injection and within 24 hours, my skin became burned and within a few days, the burn began to discolor and peel, just like a sunburn, but a BAD sunburn! The burning was all over my upper body, chest, arms and back. I felt it everywhere, but not so much at the injection site which was strange but my skin did peel at the injection sites. I finally figured out that I didn't feel burning at the injection site because I have no feeling in my chest ... it is numb all the time because my nerves were damaged in surgery. I called my surgeon, my oncologist, my therapist for help and no one seemed to know what was going on. None of them had ever seen a reaction like mine. I hated life at this point and the burning was so painful that I couldn't sleep or do anything with Blake. The pain was constant. It wasn't until two weeks later, the middle of November, that Rigo and I went back for my second fill and I was oh, so scared to go through this again. The burning was still present when I went back for the second fill, but it wasn't as severe. I hated the thought of starting that all over again.

My surgeon examined me and with nothing much to go on, he guessed that I may have suffered an allergic reaction to the beta iodine disinfectant used to clean the injection site. This made no sense to me and Rigo because they must have used disinfectant at the surgery and I didn't burn from that. The doctor explained that there are multiple types of disinfectants and that they didn't necessarily use that particular one at surgery. So, the solution was to not use the disinfectant at fill number two ... if I had a reaction again, then I was likely rejecting the expansion process (GREAT) and if I didn't have a reaction, then that was it ... I was allergic to disinfectant ... go figure! Well, life is good. No reaction the second time around. Thank God. And go figure, I'm allergic to disinfectant. I wish I had this kind of luck with the lottery. I am such a one-in-a-million type of girl!

Life after fill number two has been completely tolerable. During the expansion, I receive local anesthetic and the doctor injects saline directly into my breast. I turn my head because I am scared and it hurts like hell, but Rigo says it is pretty amazing to see my breast grow right there in the doctor's office. On average, the typical injection is about 50 to 100 cc's per breast per visit. I think my goal size is around 600 cc's to get me close to my natural breast size, but that is not set in stone and there is no simple conversion for cc's to bra size.

With that said, everyone's body responds totally different to this process. Go figure, one side of my body is responding different to the other side of the body. Hence, my right (healthy) side, looks great and is expanding well. We had our fourth fill this week and the doctor said that we could have been done with my right side if we went full force on that side (100 cc's per visit). Unfortunately, we aren't going full force because my left side is not responding well to the expansion. It seems to be not expanding and the symmetry is totally off. I have nearly the same amount of saline in each side, but there is barely anything visible on my left side. Right side looks like a total foob. The doctor has been explaining all the different things to Rigo and I that are going on with my body, but at this point, he says it is too early to be able to say for sure what, if any, course of action we need to take to correct the situation.

For instance, my left side is so constricted (my scar tissue is constricting/restricting my expander from growing), that I can only tolerate about 20 cc's of saline per visit. Hence, we have a long way to go and are nowhere near finishing. Initially, Rigo and I expected to be done with the expansion process by the end of the year, but at this rate, we feel like we'll be lucky to be done by the middle of the Spring. What is going on? The doctor explained that the expander is contouring inward towards my ribs and not outward like it should to stretch the skin. Great ...
Well, there are a few options, none of which we decide now because the doctor wants to do a few more expansions and see how I respond ... hopefully, I respond fine and the left side will just catch up with the right side and all will work out. Otherwise, one option is to go in and take the expander out, remove the scar tissue build-up and replace the expander with a new one. Another option is to see if the doctor can just squeeze an implant in with what we have. The negative to that is that my goal size may not be achieved since we may have to cut the expansion process short. The doctor explained that we can supplement the implant by using my back muscle for additional size. Ultimately, it is our decision, but one that we don't have to make yet.

I have learned so many lessons over the last year with my journey with cancer. Life is so precious and I am just so grateful to be here to celebrate TODAY with Rigo and Blake. That is the big picture lesson, but one of the many practical lessons I am learning to appreciate is the fluidity of life. Especially with this reconstruction. I get so frustrated and tired traveling back and forth to Stanford (about 7 hour drive each week) and seeing such little progress that I want to just quit. I never truly wanted to quit in my battle with cancer, through chemo, through the mastectomy, I was willing to give it everything I had. But I'm not sure how much more I have in me and for what? Fake boobs that won't even look good? Ugh ... I am trying so very hard to be flexible and deal with the changes in my course of treatment. It is hard though. I know there is a much bigger purpose to why we are going through this and I am trying to keep that in perspective and remember that when we get tired. I don't think the end goal of having scarred, uneven foobs is the lesson Rigo and I are suppose to get from this journey. It isn't clear yet what we are suppose to be getting from this part, the reconstruction, but I am sure in the end, it will be worth it ... and not for the physical or aesthetic benefits. Maybe it is the weekly 7 hour chats Rigo and I get from our drives to Stanford ... really, in the end, these drives together may be just the thing that we are meant to share and get from this journey. Time, the time together and the memories. That I will forever remember and cherish. Thank you Rigo, my love, my friend, for being there and taking care of me. Thank you for sharing the tears and the laughs with me. As much as I hate going every week, I LOVE the time I get to spend with you! (And thank you soooooo much Grandma Julie, Poppo and Nana Linda for spending time with Blake so we can head up to Stanford! You guys are the best!)

With that said, I am a new mom, I am a wife, I am a daughter, I am a sister, I am an aunt, I am a girlfriend, I am a deputy district attorney and I am a cancer survivor. Hence, I wish I could blog more often, but I am adjusting to the "new normal" and find little time to blog. I think of all our family and friends often and think about my journey over the last year. I am thrilled to be embarking on this new chapter of life, life after cancer. Life is good.