I Spoke Too Soon (Not an Inspirational One)

So I recounted my dramatic pre-surgery in my last post. And I told you that I was doing pretty well. The pain isn't terrible, and I'm getting further and further along the road to recovery with my physical therapy exercises.

So that's the good.

And here's the bad.

I called today to find out what's going on with my pathology report. I got two parts bad news. Part one was that there was a small section that was positive for cancer in my sentinel lymph node. I was really hoping and praying that there would be no cancer in my nodes. I don't know the significance of this yet; hopefully I'll know more soon. Part two was that the surgeon didn't get all the cancer out, so I have to have a re-excision.

What does re-excision mean? It means that I have to have another surgery.

When a lumpectomy is performed, the surgeon needs to remove the tumor along with a margin of healthy tissue surrounding it, keeping all the cancer contained. When the lump is removed, it's sent to pathology, and the pathologist examines the outside very carefully to make sure that all the tissue surrounding the lump is cancer free. If they find something on the outside, however, the surgeon has to go back and take more tissue, still trying to get "clear margins."

I knew this was a possibility, but for some reason didn't really think it would happen. And then when I knew I could find out my pathology results today, I was really hesitant. I could sense that I'd get bad news. I was right.

Don't get me wrong; this next surgery should be relatively easy in comparison to what I've just gone through. She won't be messing with my nodes, which is the only part that really hurts now. And she only needs to take 1/4". And I won't be under general anesthesia; it'll just be a local anesthetic (yay... again... needles in my breast...) and some loopy medicine. I'm sure I'll heal up quickly.

The part that gets me is that it's ANOTHER bump along this already too bumpy road. I feel like at every crossroads I run into complications. And each thing seems to add weeks onto the total time it's taking to get well again. I'm worried that because I have to have another surgery (which, by the way, isn't scheduled until Feb. 12), I'll have to wait to start radiation. I know that radiated skin doesn't heal as quickly as normal skin, and I'm guessing that after this next surgery I'll have to take even more time to heal and THEN start radiation, adding maybe 3-4 weeks to my finish date.

What's 3-4 weeks when you've been in hell for almost 30 weeks?

I guess I shouldn't get ahead of myself because I haven't talked to anyone about whether this will stall the radiation process or not. I just have a bad feeling about it. Mostly because nothing seems to go right for me anymore.

The news that I have to have another surgery sent me into a half day of depression. It's not a huge deal, really; it's a pretty simple surgery and re-excisions happen. But it's on top of all of this, all of this cancer bullshit. I realized today, because it has become abundantly clear to me, that I am tired. I haven't felt good (as in good for a normal person) in over 6 months. That is a long fucking time to not feel good (sorry for swearing Mom and Dad). If I didn't feel nauseated, I felt tired. To distract from the fatigue is pain. I get sick or an infection in my toe. I no longer have the capability to lie down when I feel yucky and wake up feeling fine. I wake up and I am still tired. I still have cancer. I am still recovering from treatment. I am still weak. I am still living a life that I do not like, let alone recognize.

I AM TIRED OF LIVING THE LIFE OF A 25-YEAR OLD BREAST CANCER PATIENT.

If it's another 3-4 weeks until I start radiation, plus 5-6 weeks of radiation, that could be as long as 10 more weeks. Two and a half months.

I want to move on. I want to move. I want to work. I want to ski. I want to be me again.

I also realized today that my life is dictated by other people right now. I do whatever the doctors tell me to do. Take this chemo. Have surgery. Have more surgery. Do radiation. Be here at this time on this day. Wait until the doctor is ready for you. Take these drugs. And none of it is fun. I am trying to keep myself alive and so I do what they say, and there is no guarantee that it will work. I feel like the more I do and the more I find out, the worse I feel and the worse my prognosis gets.

I don't want to live in statistics, but according to http://www.breastcancer.org/, patients with triple negative cancers (yours truly) have a survival rate of 77% over 5 years versus 93% of patients with other breast cancers. That means, for those of you who aren't great with the numbers, that one out of four will be dead in 5 years. Those are not great odds. Of course, that statistic includes all stages and grades of cancer, so it may not be so helpful, but still. Not good on a little Carrie's mindset.

I can't help but wonder still why this happened to me. How this happened.

I cried today. A lot for me. I am feeling very tested. And very tired of cancer. I know I can do this; I know I'll make it through the surgery. I know I'll get my range of motion back. I know it will stop hurting. I know someday I won't be tired and I'll feel great again. I know I will ski. But today was a hard day.

Oh yeah, and I totally acted like a jerk and yelled at my mom, which probably didn't help her at all. I just couldn't talk about it anymore. I didn't want to talk about cancer anymore, or surgery, or anything related to how much my life sucks these days. I didn't want to be on the phone. I didn't want to be in my own skin. I usually don't feel like I have a crappy life, but taking a candid look back at the last 6 months, it's been pretty damn bleak. I know, though, that it could be worse. But today wasn't a "count your blessings" day.

What I wanted to do today was call my ex-boyfriend and just SCREAM at him (no, not Marc, he got me pretty flowers... actually I have lots of pretty flowers right now). Hmmmm, that's healthy.

Even though it isn't representative of my feelings tonight, I'll leave you with some good news.

Tomorrow I'm going to Denver to get my drain removed. Yay! I think it's going to hurt, but whatever, what's new. And tonight I finally took a shower, and when I was washing my hair, I could really feel some of it coming back in. Not to say it's all growing yet, but at least there's something starting.

So there you have it. I'm going to do my physical therapy exercises once more, brush my teeth, take an Ativan, and hope the sun shines a little brighter tomorrow. The truth, whether I can see it or not tonight, is that it usually does.