Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I am on the mend and healing nicely from surgery. I met with my surgeon on Friday and was cleared for physical therapy and exercise. I will meet again with my surgeon on October 14 to check in and see how everything is going. I meet with my oncologist on October 28. It will be a month dedicated to healing before walking into 28 rounds of daily radiation. Oh, also my treatment team will be sharing my case at an upcoming tumor board conference to discuss future treatment and get additional input from other doctors. They also did this at the beginning of my treatment. Neato!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

This week I was reminded that grief and healing are not linear. I finally had the “big cry,” a moment of wailing sobs, tears that stop and go for a duration of time, and pity. Lots and lots of pity. I’ve only thrown myself one other pity party during treatment and it seemed like I was overdue for another one. All I could think about was Mr. T’s “I pity the fool” line and found myself cracking up between gulps of air. Once the tears dried up, I got up and finally went to the bathroom to confront my incisions and then began crying again.

I don’t mind looking at my chest incisions. I mean, they are an ugly and brutal truth, but what triggers me is when I touch them. The glue is still crusty, holding the two halves of skin together. I still have some sort of purple permanent marker outlining the horizontal lines. I feel very monster of Frankenstein-esque. But the worst part is when I run my finger across the incisions or above them. One moment I have a sensation and it feels strange to the touch (partly because my fingers are also numb from chemo still) and then the next I feel nothing. I can look down and see my finger grazing my skin and know that I am touching myself, but feel absolutely nothing. The distance between feeling and not feeling is incredibly small and they melt into one another. It is a mind fuck and that is what makes me upset.

Parts of my chest are permanently numb from the removal of the tissues and nerves. My right armpit is completely numb. My chest is fiery and raw. Wearing anything right now is incredibly uncomfortable. I am constantly itchy. I asked the surgeon about this at my post op on Friday and he said it was normal from all the nerves that have been disrupted and are figuring things out. Like fuck. This is almost as irritating as drains.

Almost, but not quite.

Speaking of wearing things… let me tell you that having your breasts removed and trying to wear women’s clothing is kind of awful. Like 60% of my closet doesn’t fit right anymore because of how women’s clothes are designed. T-shirts cling to my chest and dresses fit awkwardly. Combine that with my weight gain and 80% of my closet no longer fits me. I unfortunately held another pity party for myself Saturday as I tried to dress up nicely for a friend’s birthday gathering. What I wanted to wear did not fit and I tried on several pieces to no avail before settling on a dress that barely fit. Cue cancer rage.

Okay let’s move away from my pity parties. They suck. Ah, post op! The good news is that I am healing nicely! I have been cleared for physical therapy and returning to exercising as I am feeling up to it. Every day I get a little more mobility in my upper body. My right side is still tight and I cannot fully lift my arm above my head, but I can on my left side. I was told to stretch several times a day and move my arms around to help increase mobility.

According to the pathology report, 14 lymph nodes were removed from my right arm pit. Of those removed, 11 were cancerous. Pathology also confirmed that I am stage III, but that is not new information. It was noted that my tumors had a partial response to chemotherapy. I asked my surgeon about this and he said that this was due to the tumor type I had (invasive lobular carcinoma) and mitotic rate score which was 1 of 3. Mitotic rate describes how quickly the cancer cells are multiplying or dividing using a 1 to 3 scale: 1 being the slowest, 3 the quickest. I guess faster growing tumors respond better to chemotherapy than slow growing. I also learned that my type of cancer is not very common in women my age. Here is what wast listed in my pathology report for my histologial grade (Nottingham histologic score):

• Tubular formation score: 3 of 3 (This score represents the percent of cancer cells that are formed into tubules. A score of 3 is used when less than 10% of cells are in tubule formation.)
• Nuclear pleomorphism score: 3 of 3 (A score is given from 1 to 3, based on what the nucleus of the cancer cells looks like compared to normal cells. 3 is the least like normal cells.)
• Mitotic rate score: 1 of 3 (Describes how quickly the cancer cells are multiplying or dividing using a 1 to 3 scale: 1 being the slowest, 3 the quickest.)
• Overall grade: II/III – total score 7/9, intermediate grade. The three scores (nuclear grade, mitotic rate, and tubule formation) are combined for a total score between 3 (1+1+1) and 9 (3+3+3). This score makes up the histological grade.

He also noted that all the cancer was removed! I had clear margins. According to OncoLink, “Margins are the edges of the surgical cuts the surgeon made. The report will tell you how close the tumor comes to the edge. During cancer surgery, the surgeon tries to remove the whole tumor and some normal tissue around it. This area of “normal tissue” is important because cancer cells may be in this tissue too.” Yay!

On October 14 I will see the breast surgeon one more time to make sure everything is going to plan. He will probably give me the down low of what is coming next for treatment. It sounds like immunotherapy might be back on the table, but not sure. I know for sure I will be put on an oral chemo pill, the PARP inhibitor, and an estrogen blocker in pill form in addition to the monthly injections. And of course radiation. We will see what he says and what my oncologist says. For now, I will just keep stretching and picking at the glue on my incisions.

Oh! One cool thing… on Tuesday morning at 10 am on the fifth floor of the parking garage at Kadlec, I will be there as a guest speaker for the flag raising event for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I get 3-5 minutes to speak…. I need to stop blogging and go figure out what I am going to say because I have no fucking clue. What do I say? “Breast cancer sucks. Trust me. Check your boobs.” I am the last to talk and I talk right after my surgeon. Like fuck. How do I follow that act? That man is insanely smart and well-spoken. Anyway, if you don’t work, you should come.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by PattyCake. Welcome to spooky month!

“I put a spell on you
And now you’re mine”

– I Put a Spell on You (In The Style of Hocus Pocus), PattyCake