Discussing Breast Cancer

Good Morning America host Robin Roberts announced today that she had breast cancer.

Robin found a lump while doing a self-breast exam. Her lumpectomy is Friday; pathology will be forthcoming though her doctors believe the cancer is in the early stages. After that, she’ll know the full treatment protocol.

What I love about Robin is that she already wrote about her experience on the ABC blog.

Check it out.

Women are really amazing human beings. Give ‘em adversity and they give you innate strength. I’m already proud to call Robin my sister in the fight. I hope she learns that I’m on her side in her particular battle.

A few days after my surgery (I believe it was day five) I was ready for my children to come and visit. No, that’s not true. I wasn’t ready for that at all. My children were ready to visit me.

My youngest, two at the time, was not part of the equation. There was no way I wanted her to see me briefly then have to leave me. Her separation anxiety was peaking and that felt like a cruel thing to do — it would be a tease. She was missing me, for sure, but as long as my parents kept her busy, she was distracted. I was missing her but had to think of what was best for her and not for me. That’s what mommies do, isn’t it?

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I just realized I’ve left you all hanging since I last wrote about my own treatment … on June 25th I shared a little about my post op experience. I was about to share a story about my children visiting me in the hospital and that’s when I stopped writing.

I re-read that post this morning then remembered why I never moved forward Here’s why:

I thought I’d give my husband, Tim, a chance to speak for himself, to describe those hours in the waiting room, those NINE hours in the waiting room, before delving into my children’s’ experience. I didn’t realize that the waiting was so difficult for Tim that he’d not get too much down on paper.

Here’s what I can share with you today:

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Let me tell you about my day:

8:00 - 9:00 am: I rustled my boys out of bed to get to the coffee shop because I had no coffee at home; then, I picked up four other boys (my turn for camp carpool) and got all six boys to camp.

9:45 - 12:45 pm: I arrived at the first physician’s office building then waited almost two hours to be called for my 10:30 am appointment; I finally was called, then saw the nurse practitioner, my medical oncologist and a phlebotomist.

1:00 pm - 1:30 pm: I arrived at the second physician’s office building and waited less than fifteen minutes to be called for my 1:30 appointment; I was seen by my gynecological oncologist’s nurse practitioner.

1:50 - 2:45 pm: I shopped at Costco to stock up on some supplies for our upcoming vacation; I considered all the samples they were giving out lunch and wished I had a nice cold Diet Coke to go with them.

3:00 - 3:45 pm: I got a pedicure; it was during this pedicure that I lost the bad mood I found myself in most of the day.

4:00 - 8:00 pm: I picked up all six boys from camp, brought them to their respective homes, met up with my father who returned my daughter to me, I fed and bathed my kids, then put them to bed.

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Time to check in with you all and then share my reality check.

First of all, the cat came back. Six days of mystery but a lifetime of relief (she herself is down two or three lives, I’m sure. Thank you for your patience.

Second of all, while I love the fact that my children are on their summer vacation from school, I am keenly aware that it reeks havoc on my schedule. Nothing is like it was when I first started this blog and I apologize. Please continue to be patient with me.

Finally, I’m in a funk because tomorrow is oncology day. I decided to be frugal with my time and schedule two appointments with two doctors on the same day to save me a trip to Yale. Seemed smart when I made the calls. But now I have a nice case of misery brewing. I’ll be at Yale all day tomorrow remembering what brought me there in the first place.

Living with cancer recurrence … it is such a pain. I know these oncology check ups every three months are necessary but a longer stretch would be nice. I know that when cancer returns that fact further warrants good follow-up care (oh, here’s a link to a great write up on that reality). Logic helps rationalize my attitude, but emotions still dictate my mood.

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I’m so sorry I’ve been neglecting you all.

I’ve been a bit preoccupied with my missing cat.

She fled our house last weekend, after the trauma of being captured and confined on the way to/from the veterinarian for a routine visit. She’s left behind her biological sister, our family of five, and the hyperactive puppy that joined our home in January. (I suppose I can’t blame her, the dog incessantly mounted the poor cat to display her dominance over her feline cohabitant and often nibbled on her ear as a sort of foreplay to the mounting — did I mention they were both female??? Crazy animal behavior. Apparently the cat had enough!)

I’m finding it hard to do anything productive. My mind can’t focus on anything other than the sliding glass door where she should be showing up any minute now. My heart is just broken.

I apologize for being melodramatic about a cat when I’m here to talk about breast cancer.

I miss my cat.

I just read the results of a particularly disturbing study. Here’s a quote from the news article that caught my eye:

“According to new research, eating as little as a quarter of a grapefruit a day may increase the risk [of breast cancer] by 30 per cent in older women.”

They mean post-menopausal women as far as I can tell. But whatever, sisterhood in survivorship surpasses age differentiators any day.

OKAY, I’m with you if you’re nervous, I LOVE grapefruit. Because my cancers have been estrogen receptive (ER+) I AM reasonable about eliminating soy from my diet (no snacking on edamane for me, but please, soy sauce is mandatory when I stir fry).

But grapefruit? Seriously?

Here’s the good news: I recently had a conversation with a doctor about a story I’m working on and she explained how studies have to be replicated time and time again in order to have weight within the medical community. This study most likely has more to do with the fact that a certain demographic eats more grapefruit coincidentally and that demographic is susceptible to breast cancer for other reasons!

STILL … I’m not a doctor or a medical researcher and I’m not going to have a grapefruit every day of my life now, am I?

The question is … are you?

How do you feel when you read these studies? Does this one chap your tootie as well? Or do you give it very little weight? Do tell.

Seriously … I just read that Republican presidential candidate, Tommy Thompson, announced he’d put “vast resources” towards finding a cure for breast cancer by 2015.

Thompson’s wife, mother-in-law and daughter all had breast cancer. That’s heartbreaking. “I pledge to all women here to come up with a cure to breast cancer,” said Thompson on Monday at a restaurant in Iowa. While I was prepared to get all ‘who the heck can promise that’ and be all uppity about it, I read his personal connection towards the disease and my heart went out to him. His passion for our plight is sincere, I’m sure of that, if nothing else.

Then I visited his campaign site and found two fantastic links:

His My Space page with video and Google maps. LOVE it..

His flickr account with all kinds of photos. Hysterical that this guy uses flickr.

Let’s watch this guy, and see how he does, shall we?

Allison Winn Scotch is one of my favorite freelancers, full of insight and expertise for newcomers and always willing to share her invaluable advice.

Now she’s written a novel called “The Department of Lost and Found” and I can’t wait to read it! Why? Because her heroine, 30 year old Natalie Miller, is diagnosed with breast cancer. Before her diagnosis, she’s ruthless and ambitious, working as a top aide a female senator in New York and living with a less than sexy boyfriend. After her diagnosis? Well, we’ll just have to read to find out!

Cosmopolitan called it “Too good to pass up. You’ll laugh a lot (and cry just a little) as Natalie rebounds from the big C and reinvents her life.”

The Philadelphia Inquirer says it’s “A light, fast and fun read about a serious topic.”

Publishers Weekly called it “A bon bon of a book.”

I’ll aim to review this one near the end of July, beginning of August. I have to keep the date somewhat loose because my summer is unpredictably busy!

Next book on the list? You tell me. Leave a comment with the name of the books you want to read as a group and I’ll get them on my list.

(If you are an author or a publisher or a PR rep … review copies accepted; email me for my address.)

“Cancer, I am going to kick your butt … “

That’s what Marisa (in character form) is saying to the cloaked cancer villain on the inside hardcover of her graphic memoir.

Marisa created a work of brilliance when she cartooned her way through breast cancer. She visually depicts the shared experiences of survivors, down to the most minute details. Like including the time she received the call re: her diagnosis (10:12 am) and the time she called her parents to share the news with them (10:12:03 am). Like the one post-diagnosis phone call (from her sister) that caused her to finally break down and cry. Like the number of needles she was poked with throughout her experience (29). Oh, and like the number of pounds she gained throughout the ordeal (18).

Marisa’s experiences are so poignantly told in her visual story that I sat down and read this book in one sitting. I related to so much of what she shared in “Cancer Vixen” — reinforcing the idea that survivors are united in an experience that surpasses differences in status, style and sociality. That says a lot since I’m a Connecticut wife of ten years and mother of three kids and Marisa is a single child-less Manhattan cartoonist, published by The New York Times and The New Yorker, engaged to a ‘It’ Italian restaurateur. (I’ll let you read about whether or not she stays single for the duration of the book.)

The words we choose to describe what we are going through aren’t always sufficient to describe our experience. Even as a writer, I find myself struggling to convey my thoughts and feelings at the time of my diagnoses and during my treatments. (I think that’s why it is such a relief when you talk with a survivor because they can just say, ‘I know,’ and they mean it because they’ve been there.)

When Marisa depicts herself as a young girl climbing up onto her mommy’s lap and saying, “I don’t want to be here,” … well, I’ve never had a cartoon bring tears to my eyes before, let me tell you, and I never imagined feeling such emotion in this genre.

My favorite topic? The Cancer Card (page 107 if you have the book). We’ve all been given it and we’ve all used it. It’s our consolation prize. Heck, just last night, a friend of mine swiped my card and I didn’t even know she had one with her name on it. LOVE how Marisa handled that one.

Two great two page layouts:

(1) In the beginning of the book, Marisa takes us back to the other life-changing event dominating her life as an American and a Manhattanitte (9/11). She included her ‘talking pictures’ from that day in 2001; I’m so glad she did.

(2) Towards the end of the book, Marisa takes us into the radiation clinic where she succinctly captured the reason radiation is ‘psychologically harder than chemo’ (her words, not mine). I love her succinct summary of what took place over several weeks.

Finally, and this might be the main reason I smiled as I turned page after page: Marisa wasn’t afraid to reference Catholicism in the book. Praying to God and praising Mary and the intercession of Saints Philomena and Blessed Iacobus — lighting candles in the church, saying the rosary. Those familiarities speak to me personally as a Catholic. But Marisa also visited The Kaballah Centre. So, without saying it, she communicates to us that survivors need all the help we can get from God and the saints and any practice of our faith that helps us to feel the strength He offers us is a good thing.

I highly recommend this book. Powerful. Light. Funny. I’m going to leave this one on my coffee table for a long, long time. Probably opened to the page with a single candle with a glowing flame and the line, ‘When you light a candle, you illuminate a soul.’ A moment of silence for those who lost the battle against cancer and no longer live in our world.

Read more reader reviews on the Amazon web page.

Now I’ve heard everything. Christine Tulloch described her diagnosis to a friend (not an easy thing to do) as going into freefall … falling through the sky.

“Emotionally, physically, socially and culturally, everything changes overnight – nothing was the same again and this just added to the panic I felt,” said Tulloch. WOW, can i relate to that.

Her friends, with unequaled empathy, wanted to understand how she felt.

So now 17 high-flying businesswomen calling themselves ‘Booby Birds’ (named after a type of skydiving bird found in the Galapagos Islands) are raising money and will tandem dive on September 8th.

Here’s the article. (Thanks again, honey. You’re research is priceless to me.)

Here’s a link to their fundraising page.

I love it. LOVE it.

Chemical menopause and natural menopause have more than one thing in common: hot flashes, vaginal dryness (a topic for another day for sure) and ugh, icky, sticky night sweats.

My husband (yes, he’s very much ‘in the know’ about everything related to breast cancer, God bless him, just because of me) read about this air conditioned bed designed to keep you cool at night on one of his favorite sites, Treehugger.

Far fetched? Of course. But here’s something more reasonable to help you through the sweats:

I recommend Night Sweatz ‘cool, hip, dry sleepwear’ for the times it gets really bad. My mom gave me a Night Sweatz gown when I was kicked into menopause; it really did feel cool against my skin and I didn’t feel like I was swimming in my clothes when I woke up. (Thought I might have preferred a cute two piece set like this one here).

Are there other products you know about to help women get through ‘the change’ as my grandmother used to say? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope everyone has a grand Fourth of July! As we celebrate the birth of the United States and the signing the Declaration of Independence, I wish you all a safe and happy holiday.

Take a minute to reflect — that flag of ours is really special, isn’t it?

Enjoy the fireworks tonight, wherever you are. Think of the bombs bursting in air giving proof through the night that our flag was still there.

Test how much you know about all things patriotic, check out this quiz at whitehousekids.com and tell me … are you smarter than a fifth grader?

Seriously though: Happy Fourth of July everybody. Happy Fourth of July!

Christina Katz considers me a thinking blogger. She tagged me for this particular meme, which is really bestowing quite an honor on me; instead of just tagging anybody she knows, she had to think about her choice, and she chose me.

Anyway, my duty as a thinker is to list five other bloggers that make me think.

I’ll tell ya … I really had to think about this!

1. My husband, Tim Lynch. He’s the smartest guy I know, seriously, and he shares his knowledge in such a fun way, he makes me want to get on board with whatever it is he’s talking about.

2. Kristin King at Inkthinker. She’s a hot ticket. She’s a young, ambitious and talented freelance writer and she’s done all the things I’ve read you should do in the industry to make a name for yourself.

3. Mark Jabo at Environmental Talk: I respect that he presents information to the world about an issue (global warming) without emotional ranting and raving — just knowledge shared for all our benefits.

4. Deb Ng. She has taken the Internet helm as a freelance writing job specialist, from blogging to copy writing and everything in between.

5. Finally, Darren Rowse at Problogger. I have to say, he’s another one who knocks my socks off with the expert platform he’s created.

Now, the aforementioned thinking bloggers are ‘it’ and it is their job to follow these rules:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think.

2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.

3. Optional: Proudly display the ‘Thinking Blogger Award’ with a link to the post that you wrote.

Ilker yoldas at The Thinking Blog started this meme in February 2007. Read about its inception here.

These last few days, the weather has been fantastic in the Northeast. Fantastic. Beautifully sunny, barely a cloud in the sky, a topaz blue sky.

This morning the temperature was a lovely 68 degrees. Before I’d taken my first sip of coffee, I was standing in the living room, having just opened the sides of the bay window to let in the fresh air, and a wonderful breeze wrapped itself around me.

I shivered and crossed my arms because I felt the chill take hold of my chest. My breasts, slowly regaining feeling as new nerve endings extend where old ones were removed, prickled in the cool morning air. With a lift of my shoulders I acknowledged that my nipples were getting hard then I realized … I don’t have nipples.

It must have been a phantom sensation but it was as real to me as a kiss on my cheek.

I smiled at the reality and walked away from the window thinking … who needs nipples when memories of having them are strong enough to fuel my imagination?