SkinAgain Blog

In response to our blog post from yesterday, one brave survivor shared her breast cancer story with us. Read on…

Breast Cancer – A Halloween Story!
Saturday, October 6, 2007

Alarm sounds, 6:30 a.m. ‘On a Saturday’, you ask? Yes, that’s right! I rise, and try to shine. It’s gym time! (Just another attempt to maintain my never-ending healthy lifestyle in my post-menopausal crazy life) Get dressed, slap mascara on (which should be melted off in approximately 1.5 hrs….. but, what the heck? Gotta stay somewhat cute!) Down a protein drink, kiss my beau goodbye and off I go. In reality, I’m really looking forward to the shopping excursion I will be having in the mall after all the blood, sweat and tears.

OK, shopping was highly successful. Spent reasonable $$$, scoring big on the sales rack. It’s safe to come home now. Now it’s time to meet with my in-house ‘Syskel and Ebert’ [aka Chris, my significant other, my darling (sp. ‘Da[h]rling’…God given name…for real!]. But let’s call him ‘Darling’ for now. Anyway, we must now review potential movies for our Saturday evening date. Please understand, there will be NO spontaneous movie adventures in my house. He [not me] requires 2.5 stars or higher in the reviews to even consider parking his car near a movie theater. Decision is made…not an easy task.

We arrive at La Jolla 12 theaters. A-h-h-h. Rest period. Nice cool theater. Really hot outside. It’s October, after all. I am most definitely enjoying my box of Junior Mints with my ice water chaser. Pre-movie trailers are goofy, but I just love sitting still . . . breathing deep, decompressing, and hugging Darling. Movie starts. My life changes forever!

I had an itch on the top of my left breast. I scratch. Doesn’t sound so difficult, does it? Except for the fact I felt like my finger was sliding over a small mountain. I continued to feel myself up – over and over, occasionally glancing to see if Darling was noticing my very unusual affection I had for myself. Not yet, thankfully. Now I decide to detour over to the right breast to do my analysis on that side, very thankful for the substantial lack of light. No sign of any mountain range over there. Now my gulps become gigantic. Saliva production is at a minimum. Here comes the sweat again (didn’t I have enough earlier in the day????). Darling finally looks over. Questions begin. Answers are brief. Words don’t come. My fears now turn to a feature film of my life. It’s O-ver! My positive attitude turns to mush. Thank goodness, Monday morning I’m already scheduled for my annual exam with my to-die-for general practitioner, Dr. Janet Schwartz. Whew! Don’t have to wait too long to get confirmation on my ‘trip through the Himalayas.’ To sum up the rest of the weekend. . . my darling, Darling tried his best to implant as much red wine into my veins as possible. . . he is truly psychic!

Monday, October 8, 2007

8:15 a.m., Appointment with Doc Schwartz, full physical.

Note 1: Doc Schwartz is a very sassy, sixty-something, girly girl. How much do I love her? Let me count the ways. I have now referred 6 co-workers to her. The love is so strong. . . Doc is now in their wills (joke). She really is quite an amazing person.

My heart appears to, perhaps, be JUMPING OUT OF MY CHEST as I’m placed on the exam table. Gee, imagine that! Not feelin’ too spiffy for my good Doc. The conversation of concern begins. Now, the ‘rotating circles’ start. And, a few ‘zig-zags.’ I want her to look in my eyes as she determines the outcome of the rest of my life. She has no problem with that, cuz we’re a team. More circles. Pause. OK, one more time through the Himalayas. Pause again. She’s thinking now. H-e-r-e w-e g-o-o! Her lips seem to part slowly [spit it out, Doc]. And then the words came, “Helaine, I don’t like it.”

Doc Schwartz knows the best in the biz. My head spins listening to all the details. Mammo/ultrasound scheduled for Tuesday. Results: “Helaine, I don’t like it.” Dejà freakin’ vu is all that comes to mind. Doc Schwartz recommends magnificent surgeon, Dr. Paul Hyde (just in case). Met with him. Loved every bone in his body. Got me in the ‘system’ immediately. MRI, needle biopsy, delivering lots of support along the way. Note 2: My co-girlies in my office are now officially on Xanax. . . the wait is killing them. After all, this cannot happen to Helaine. She takes perfect care of the temple. Stifle thyself ladies. I suck right now.

Cannot seem to work in between all these tests. I’d be burnt toast just sitting in my chair staring at my monitor—-waiting. Not the picture of good mental health. So, I opted to stay home and touch up my baseboards waiting for the phone to ring.

Friday, October 19, 2007

All test results should be back. One heck of a sleepless night.

6:30 a.m., I departed the bed. The sun was shining (sounds like a sappy novel now). At about 1:00 p.m., Dad called from Boynton Beach, Florida, trying his best to distract me. Bear in mind, once your parents hit their 80’s, distraction is not what they give you (love you Dad-o). H-e-r-e w-e g-o-o [again]. . . Call-waiting clicks.

No more breath. I’m standing up against the counter sink, leaning backwards, as if I’m ready for the Olympic balance beam competition (now signing off with my Dad). Feel mild bursts of air coming out my mouth. Good sign. . . deep breath is near. Click over from call-waiting. Gee, it’s my Dr. Hyde, surgeon extraordinaire, beautiful South African accent trying to bring calm to the conversation, as he speaks the words slowwwwwwwwwwwly……….BREAST CANCER!

After I got cut from the Olympic competition after falling apart on the floor, Doc Hyde managed to interrupt my hysteria and asked me to come in right away, with Darling of course. (FYI – Darling is not what he called him!) I didn’t really know how to tell Darling about the wild ride we were about to take. After all, we too, are a team. And we want to be together for a long time. So, I had to grow up really fast and call him in the middle of a business meeting. While waiting for my call, God bless him, he had his $20 bill ready to throw on the table for lunch, so he could quickly depart his colleagues. I do believe that The Starship Enterprise had something to do with his immediate transport. He came screaming through the front door in a blink of an eye.

Funny how we just fell apart, not speaking one word, crying a lot, asking ‘WHY?’, and cried some more. Note 3: Don’t every ask ‘WHY?’! Then, we were done. Got up, dusted ourselves off, this time got the blush out, along with some lipstick, (surgeons see a person at their worst – NOW is the time to apply all the goods), and headed to Doc Hyde’s office for the itinerary of my future.

I have to admit, I fell apart (again) once I arrived, as I began discussing the meaning of life with Doc Hyde. Darling took notes. Doc explained: ‘First, lumpectomy and node dissection, radiation and then a referral to oncologist[s]’. My wonderful Dr. Hyde scheduled me for surgery that very Monday. He didn’t want me to hang too long. Friday/Monday. . . hmmmm, that’s really soon and lucky for you Doc, I’m available! (humor is required right about now)

Monday, October 22, 2007

Report for surgery 6:30 a.m. But wait, phone rings 4:30 a.m. Doc Hyde calling. San Diego has caught on fire. Everything is shut down, all non-critical surgeries cancelled. Crap. The city is burning. This is so NOT about me anymore. Our city is in crisis. People are losing everything, and my wonderful Doc is apologizing to me for not operating on me that day. Now I’m telling him to stay home and shut all his windows. . . tight!

We all know how the fires of 2007 affected our lives. I got through the wait period until surgery just fine—due to force-feeding of my favorite antioxidant—-pinot noir, and on October 31, 2007 the gurney raced down the hall. It was now going to be a done deal. Yes, a very scary day………BOO!

I still have my breast. He saved it. My hero. What an artist, that Doc Hyde is. He wrapped me like a mummy after surgery. The back pain from the weight of the mummy was worse than the incisions.

Two weeks later, back to work….e-mo-tion-al to say the least. It was a chick-fest in my office upon arrival. Of course, still not just about ME. Fire victims to worry about. Post-traumatic ‘everything’ syndrome.

Post-surgery rehab: find a support group. Something very necessary for the continued overhauling of my positive attitude. I had no problem in finding an awesome group. Scripps Encinitas has a network of women that should be bronzed and put on a mantle. And our nurse, Bunny, the ‘Bubble,’ is such a hoot. Thank you Bunny for always having your funny giggle in tow at every meeting.

Time to meet Doc Hyde’s oncologist[s] referrals. He wanted me to have the BEST and boy was he right. Said he wanted to treat me like his OWN DAUGHTER. (time out: here comes some mini-tears……) I’m back. So, Dr. John Link in Orange County is the chosen one for medical oncology. Dr. Jean Mefferd for radiation oncology. Done! I’m there. Let me just say Doc Link IS the ‘breast’ in the biz. [Sorry, couldn’t resist]. Doc Mefferd held my hand tight and took great care of me. No kidding, I now look forward to my appointments [did I just say that??]. So, backing up a bit, Darling and I went up to Orange County to get the post-surg overview of Doc Link’s kick-ass treatment plan for me. By the way, this is the real SPOOKY part. I knew from the start that radiation and hormone therapy was definitely going to happen, but please God spare me the chemo. Not real sure about collecting all the necessary ingredients needed for this delicate body getting through that. So, Darling and I sit down [after Doc and I have some table talk - so to speak], then sends us into his office. Out comes the grease board. His explanation was clear and very detailed. Lots of numbers on a scale, blah blah blah with recurrence ratios blah and blah. He felt given my numbers that [Darling and I have dueling sweaty palms at this point], he did NOT think chemo was necessary for me. At this point I carefully leaned over on the floor, picked up my HEART, and inserted it back into my chest! My head looked north as I thanked God. [I then whispered to Him asking, ‘How’s my crazy journey was going for you so far?’ I think He laughed.] HE has since answered that question in about a million ways!

I kicked butt during radiation, except for my skin shredding toward the end. My radiation oncologist, Doc Mefferd, gave me much needed sister-love. She was proud of me and told me frequently. [Could it have been the ‘skin-shred-dread look’ on my face that prompted her ultra-positive stroking of my psyche? Hmmm.] Being so tired was the very hardest part. Take my energy away, and there will be hell to pay! Of course, weeks after treatment, skin returned to normal. But, had there been SkinAgain in my life at the time, I would have powered through the healing process. I say, ‘Better late than never!’ My good friend and co-survivor, Lisa, was lucky enough to have the SkinAgain Healing Cream during her radiation recovery. Slam dunk! She healed up beautifully (half the time it took me). SkinAgain is now part of my ‘team’ of experts’ making me the healthy survivor that I am. Even 19 months post-rad, I’m still tired. Radiation will do that. Bet SkinAgain could fix that too! [who knows?]. I am so blessed to have these products in my life. Things are lookin’ up! [P.S. Darling is using them too! ]

Continuing on, now that radiation is over, back to Doc Link. It’s Hormone Therapy time [aka: Tamoxifen el-terrifico!] Let’s not forget the little side effects that accompany these life saving drugs……….ARRGHHH!] I have hormone receptive positive cancer, therefore, I’m a great candidate for hormone therapy. He prescribes, I take. By month 3………..well, let me pause for a moment. Whew! I’m getting hot just thinking about it. Can you spell C-A-M-I-S-O-L-E? That was the extent of my upper-body wardrobe. Hot flashes are bad enough when a woman’s hormones begin marching out the door. Now, drugs are introduced that turbo-charge the already existing oven you live in. I won’t go into the other side effects [snooze]. I made it to month 9 of a 5-year plan for the drug. Then, I begged for mercy from Doc Link. He smiled, looked at my chart, my numbers, the terror on my face and said, ‘I’m OK with you discontinuing the Tamoxifen, Helaine, given your healthy lifestyle.’ Darling was happy too. He was beat up from changing the linens every 2 days.

Fast Forward–September 2009: My docs and I are now family. We really do need to take a Family Foto soon. They are my heroes. They see me every 6 months. I try to stay on top of my game. I take my supplements everyday. I eat organic at every opportunity. I workout 4+ days a week. I love my God and my family. I surround myself with good people who believe in themselves. Relationships do change after breast cancer. It is not bad that they do. People enter, people exit. It forces you to rearrange your priorities in many areas of your life. I will retire soon. I’ve hit that golden age. Time for something new. Don’t want to waste any time, you know. Just want my ‘team’ to keep giving me the green light! I believe I have been a good soldier and will continue to be. I can only hope I never repeat the story. I pray a lot and keep marching ahead! One day at a time!