I have many “mascots” that represent certain journeys in my life. I could think of none more fitting for this weight loss journey than an Adipose from the Doctor Who series. The Adipose are aptly created from adipose tissue, aka FAT.
I named her Toki, which, in Japanese, means, “time of opportunity.” I am ready for this opportunity to turn my life in a radical new direction!
Look for Toki photos from my vacation in Tahoe this Fall.
On August 21st, I celebrated my one year anniversary of taking the cancer-preventative drug, Tamoxifen. I’ll be honest, it has not been an easy year, and I’ll be more honest, I am not happy that I have four years left to take it. This drug, however, will help me not get breast cancer again, so I take it, grudgingly.
This far into the post-cancer journey, I am by no means back to normal or happy with where I am in the recovery/moving on process. I am, however, taking steps to ensure that I do move on, and I do more than recover.
Last month, I went to see my new allergist, Dr. D. Dr. D has really helped me so far, and while I am still allergic to most everything I tested for 7 years ago, I am happy to report I can eat chicken again! I have eaten so much chicken in the last three weeks, I may cluck with joy. I am so happy to have chicken as an option again.
Dr. D is going to start me on shots in a couple of weeks. I really like her. Unlike my last allergist, she listened to me, asked questions, and wants me to be a well-rounded person. Dr. D, coincidentally, studied Tamoxifen in college. I’ve been able to get a lot more information and support about this med than I have in a while.
So while I’m getting that part of my life under control, I now am onto the next phase of my new life. A year ago, when I started taking Tamoxifen (which makes your body think it’s pregnant and holds onto every pound), my oncologist said that since fat stores estrogen and my cancer was estrogen positive, I needed to be about 100 pounds less than I am now. I told her that was highly unlikely any time soon.
“Then we need to talk surgery,” she strongly suggested.
“Surgery?”
“Weight loss surgery. Bypass, I’m thinking.”
At that moment, I was not ready to hear that I needed surgery. I told her no way and she left it alone for the time being.
In April, at another checkup, my oncologist noted I’d only lost 7 pounds. I felt estatic over that number considering how tired I’d been. She was not amused. She mentioned surgery again. I was not amused.
I started doing research on bariatric surgery and what it would entail. I began to deal truthfully with myself as well. I’d been overweight since I was 8 years old and for various reasons, I had not been able to lose weight and keep it off, and in the last 5 years or so, losing was nearly impossible.
I talked with three friends who have had this surgery and the consensus seems to be this:
I have talked with a few more friends who have had either banding surgery or other forms of weight-loss surgery. All say it was difficult, but worth it.
After a lot of self examination, I decided that if I was going to get to this magical land on the other end of the scale, then I was going to need help. I rarely ask for help. In fact, having to admit I needed help with my weight was a big barrier. A friend told me that knowing I needed help was, “discernment.”
Last week I had another followup with my oncologist and I told her I was ready to have the surgery. She seemed surprised but glad I was taking this seriously, as I was back up 6 pounds and in one year had only lost a pound. I was just happy I hadn’t really gained weight beyond that.
She referred me to the Davis Clinic here in Houston (thedavisclinic.com). Dr. Garth Davis had a show on TLC a few years ago called, “Big Medicine.” He is the surgeon I am going to see on September 21. I am excited to have this moving forward and ready to get this part of my life under control. Not only will I get the surgery, I will be seeing a psychologist and a dietician.
My plan is to live a long life. Getting the weight off will help bring that to reality. I know that once I get the weight off, with God’s help and with support I can keep it off.
I have already gotten many comments and negative feedback. Mostly from skinny people or people who lose weight easily or people who can’t imagine themselves going without their favorite foods for a very, very long time.
I am drawing the boundary line right here and now. Keep your negative comments to yourself. I do not need to hear your negativity. It will not make me change my mind. I’m going forward with this. If you can support me that would be wonderful, if not, I can appreciate standing up for what you believe in, and I will miss you.
I will be updating quite a bit more now, as keeping a blog during this transition will be very helpful. I’m getting excited about the positive changes I’m making in my life and I’m ready to be the healthiest I’ve ever been!
I feel like the first have of the year dissolved in this early heat wave we are having (trust me, if it’s been in the high 90’s already, we are in so much trouble when August rolls around). I have been busy, doing a couple of photoshoots here and there, going to doctor(s) appointments and trying to get back into my normal routine, whatever that was.
I am happy to announce, though, that my first mammogram after having cancer came back NORMAL. I have never been so relieved to hear such news in my life. I literally have been to a couple dozen doctor’s appts in the last six months so being released to move forward was such a blessing.
My OB/GYN, who has been helping me through the maze of ultrasounds and pain management of some cysts that have developed thanks to Tamoxifen. I am happy to say that, though the cysts are no fun, I no longer feel as tired as I have been. I still battle nausea and with the heat, that is not fun, but like I said, I’m almost back to “normal.”
I really like my doctors. All are good in their specialty but I have been blessed with two doctors in particular who are just as gifted in people skills. My OB/GYN, Dr. E, and I were talking one day about all these side effects and pains, and wondering what was next. She heard me out, then looked at me and said, “stop looking over your shoulder and live your life.”
Her words washed over me. While I haven’t been all gloom and doom, I’ve spent the last year managing my life waiting for breast cancer to come back and interrupt my life again. I’ve been managing my life waiting for the next health crisis. Just waiting. Looking over my shoulder. Waiting.
Dr E is right. I need to look forward and live my life. It’s up to me to decide the quality of my life, too.
I’ve been walking a lot more, but my stamina is shot. Still, I try to keep going and moving. I have to get back into the groove of exercise. I still have a lot of weight to manage. I am healthier than I’ve been in a while, but I have a long way to go.
I, the grand champion of insomnia and low quality sleep, am seeing a sleep specialist. I hope to have better sleep be a reality by the end of June. Who knows what I will be like if I start getting the sleep I’m supposed to.
I am doing more photography. I can’t tell you what Instagram and a brand new EVO phone have done for my photography. I look for opportunities everywhere, even when the big girl camera is at home. I have done some photography at work, which has brought something new to my desk. I am working on a website where my photos can be purchased. I am moving forward with my camera in hand.
I also have a target for my restlessness and after 18 years in Houston, I may get the opportunity to go elsewhere. Stay tuned for official news later this year. Another way for me to go forward and live my life.
I’m taking a deep breath, and deciding what’s important to pursue, and what’s not. I’m allowing myself the opportunity to think outside the box, and taking new opportunities as they come. After all, playing it safe doesn’t make sense after cancer knocks on your door. Last year was a reminder that it can all end and I would have no control over it. I have so much left to do and see and explore, and I plan on taking those opportunities wherever they may lead.
Time to stop looking over my shoulder at what might have been, should have been, or could have been, or wondering what might be sneaking up on me. It’s time to look forward and live my life.
I finally decided to get my second tattoo. Since I had breast cancer last year, I knew this tattoo would be an Ebeneezer from that journey. I wanted it to be visible this time (my first one is on my back) so it would be a constant reminder to be strong, courageous and grateful.
I think what made me finally ready for this tattoo was the total defeat I felt this past week and how deeply I felt I needed to draw a line in the sand before I passed the point of no return.
My new reality is a slow-spinning blender, which makes it all the more painful. Needless to say, I am still struggling emotionally from having gone through the breast cancer ordeal and then the Tamoxifen ordeal immediately following it which has subsided a bit but still has taken over my life. My health keeps spinning out of control and each time I see the doctor, we have new maladies to discuss. I am beyond frustrated with how tired I am all the time and how I’ve been unable to put my life back on track after all this time.
Wednesday was the epitome of me, frustrated, spinning out of control, unable to reign my chaotic emotions back into place. I felt so defeated and so awful and so bitchy and I hate those days. Then, I got home and received the news that someone I love like a daughter had lost her baby. I just flopped down on the floor and sobbed.
I wish I could tell you that I’ve had some spiritual epiphany as I’ve walked this part of my journey, but I can’t. Believe me, I’ve tried to get to that point as much as it has been expected I’d get there. I have not had that pink ribbon spiritual aha moment that so many people have had and gone on to write books about their wonderful spiritual journey and all they’ve learned.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to God for the healing I have had and I know he’s been with me this whole time. I just feel like my heart is full of broken glass because so much of me was shattered last year. I’m confused, tired, and broken. I can’t seem to find my new path yet and I’m so very frustrated.
Meanwhile I feel like I’m in an endless maze and someone thought they’d be clever and not leave any cheese at the end. I’m lost and there is no reward.
That’s why yesterday I called a friend and we went to the tattoo parlor. I needed to mark this part of my journey, permanently and I seem to find inspiration in the depth of a tattoo needle. I chose the butterfly because it is a symbol of hope to me, that beauty lies beyond this cocoon. It all came together when Jeremy, the tattoo artist handed me his drawing and I knew that was what I wanted.
I am grateful for my life, and once I figure out what I’m supposed to do next, I know I will be ok. I have a very visible reminder of God’s faithfulness on my forearm.
SASSY SACHETS*:
1 empty prescription bottle (the bigger ones are better/easier)
1 pair of nylon crew or knee highs
3 tablespoons of baking soda
1 martini or other shallow, wide-mouthed glass/container
By the way, I did this without making a mess.
Stretch one of the nylons over the mouth of the martini glass. Scoop 3 tablespoons of baking soda into the martini glass. Take the nylon out of the glass and tie off the top. Cut off the excess nylon.
Carefully stuff the soda-filled nylon into the prescription bottle. Wrap the bottle with the second nylon so the top of the bottle is covered.
Notice you have not made a mess and tell yourself maybe Tamoxifen hasn’t completely eaten your brain!
I ran out of bottles believe it or not. I had thrown away quite a bit, so as a backup, I just wrapped the inner nylon with the outer nylon and set it on a paper towel just in case.
I will update when I can tell how well they work.
* Yes, I know they have those nifty boxes of baking soda that you can rip the side off and it breathes, but those were too big and I felt those were overkill for these tiny drawers!
Suckuary has passed in a blur of more doctor’s appointments and birthday celebrations. I’m grateful that Suckuary is almost over.
I had two doctor’s appointments a couple of weeks ago. My regular OB/GYN checkup and a followup with my primary care physician. Because I’ve had cancer, I had the royal uber workup from both.
My OB/GYN is great. Everything in her office is new and cutting edge. She is a very nice woman who explains everything in detail, which is how I like my doctors. Her nurse/aid was very sweet and we both got a good laugh after she handed me a scrub shirt and a pair of scrub pants and saw the confusion on my face.
“Pants…”
She smiled. “You’ll get the idea.”
She left the room and I collapsed in a heap of laughter as I put on my first pair of CROTCHLESS PANTS. I have to admit that I felt more covered with those on than I ever did with a gown. The doctor said that when the rep who sold them the latest in OB/GYN patient wear showed them these pants they all laughed as hard as I did.
I had an ultrasound done, and the results from that were that everything looked good except there was a spot on my left ovary. I am going back in a couple of months to do that all over again to see if the spot has grown.
Since Tamoxifen can cause uterine cancer, I reiterated to my doctor that I wholeheartedly would agree to the removal of all these problem-generating organs but I can’t find a doctor who will do it for me yet.
So I still have to hang on to my problem-generating organs.
I gave enough blood to test for everything they think I need tested for, which was significant. All of my bloodwork came back with good results, even the blood sugar and Vitamin D. My cholesterol was high, however.
I don’t eat fried food often, but the hamburger and onion rings from Southwell’s I had that weekend might have affected my results. Still, I need to pay attention to that, and adjust accordingly.
Then I had my first EKG. The results were poor (but not alarming), so I have to go to a cardiologist on Friday. What this means is I have another doctor to tell me I need to lose weight.
AND if that wasn’t enough, my doctor wanted me to have a sleep test. She’s trying to figure out why I’m not getting good rest. I told her I’ve had trouble sleeping all my life. It’s difficult to fall asleep and stay asleep. I wasn’t sure what this test would show, but I said I’d do it.
Friday night I went to the Sleep Clinic for my test. The technician hooked me up to dozens of electrodes, put tubes up my nose and an oxygen level monitor on my finger and told me I needed to try and go to sleep.
It was only 10:30 and I told her I wasn’t sleepy. She blinked at me a couple of times. I asked if I could read a while and she said yes and went to hook up the other patient.
Every five minutes she came on the monitor and asked if I was ready to sleep yet. This was annoying, especially when I’d told her I wasn’t tired yet and she wouldn’t let me watch tv, put on music, or my white noise machine, anything I usually do to relax and let my mind unwind.
Finally, after the tone of her voice changed from camp counselor to dorm mother, I let her calibrate the machines and turn off the lights.
Because I am me and was annoyed, she would tell me to close my eyes and I would say they were closed but she could see me through the infrared camera and she would say, “I can see you they are not closed!”
“I can HEAR you and I’m not sleepy.”
Finally, I gave up taunting her and closed my eyes and she said goodnight.
I slept maybe two hours and was awakened about 1:18 AM from the person I shared the bathroom with getting up, slamming his door closed and turning on all the lights (that shone in from under the door). He also locked me out of the bathroom…again.
I slept off and on from that point, but nothing deep. I tossed and turned as much as the wires would let me and explained in the morning that was a normal night’s sleep for me.
She had the audacity to wake me up at 6:30 in the morning…SATURDAY morning.
She couldn’t tell me anything about my test, but from the questions she avoided if I do have sleep apnea it’s so slight they likely wouldn’t try to treat it.
We’ll see what the results say in a few days.
That’s the update. I hope the cardiologist is the last new doctor I have but I have this feeling that if the sleep test doesn’t give my doctor the answers she wants, an allergist is probably next.
In a way, I’m thankful everyone is being so careful, gathering information that can help me and improve my health. I just hope I can spend less time with the doctors as time goes on!
I went to see my beautician last week, the wonderful Nora who has cut and colored my hair for almost 10 years. I asked her to do something that absolutely irritated her. I asked her to cut my hair very, very short.
At first, she didn’t understand why a “bob” cut wasn’t going to be enough. Finally I defaulted to an analogy that a friend of a friend had used before to illustrate how she has to handle her energy management.
“Let’s say I have ten spoons of energy a day,” I told her as she tried to reason with me that short hair was not going to…cut it…so to speak. “My meds take 3-4 spoons of energy away a day. That leaves me 6-7 spoons of energy to get dressed, work, cook, clean, run errands, and try to get out and do something once in a while.”
I could see she had begun to understand when I said, “I need one of the spoons back from my hair. Don’t make me cut this myself.”
I’d finally convinced her I needed my hair to be wash & go and that short was truly the only way to accomplish this task. Honestly, I think Nora thought I would be unhappy when she finished and that’s the reason she didn’t want to cut my hair. I felt desperate for this haircut and was thrilled for the results. My hair is short, wash and go, and it looks great. I knew Nora would come through. She’s too talented to give me a haircut, no matter what length, and have me walk out unhappy. Has never happened.
I had an overwhelmingly positive response to my hair, which reinforced my drive to get my energy management under control. I know many people worse off than I am in this department, who charge through what they have to and fall exhausted into bed every night. Anything frivolous and extra just doesn’t happen often, or at all.
I’ve spent the week thinking about my spoon (energy) management. I know I can do this. Prioritizing is essential if I hope to pursue more photography and other creative pursuits. I want to challenge myself to a photo a week in 2012 to build my portfolio and my skills. To do this, I have to save some of my spoons and choose not to do other things. It’s difficult, at times, to make those choices, but choose I must.
Everything boils down to this: I have to accept what is, and make the most of what is. If anything 2011 taught me that if God chooses, he can take me in an instant, and I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this anyway. God also taught me in 2011 that, though cancer is a complete game changer, it does not mean that the game is over, or that I still can’t accomplish what I dream to accomplish.
All that’s changed is that I have to manage my spoons better to get the results I want.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions often, simply because I choose goals that are based on feelings or superficial notions. I have decided to choose to pursue actual obtainable goals in 2012. I need to be able to check things off the list and make everything I’ve been through this year seem a distant memory.
In 2012 I will:
* keep myself open to new adventures and manage my spoons to maximize the adventure
* learn as much as possible about photography and editing and not buy any new equipment (deals are off if I get to B&H this year)
* read more, for pleasure and business
* do what I need to do so that breast cancer does not return so I don’t have to go through this again (and this includes many things, like make friends with Tamoxifen, which has had another side effect manifest itself this week!)
I think four goals is enough right now (making friends with Tamoxifen may have to be a goal in itself). I think that may use all the spoons I can find. What ultimately needs to happen is that just having four goals and utilizing spoon management and accepting my new reality has to be okay. I think that may be my biggest adversary – my mind.
My mind is still here, still relatively sharp, still active. It’s the body that can’t keep up right now. In order to move forward I have to work harder to do it, plan better, manage my spoons better. I will accomplish quite a bit if I can do these things.
Welcome, 2012. I am going to learn to manage my spoons and maybe even learn to play them to make beautiful music while I’m at it.
As I lit the Advent candles today I was listening to Robbie Seay’s “Mary’s Song.” I had to snap this photo as a reminder that though God is with us, remembering/learning how to anticipate Him is a valuable and enriching experience.
My soul magnifies the Lord,
My soul magnifies the Lord,
Holy is His name! Holy is His name! Holy is His name!
I know that as this week unfolds some might get caught up in the craziness that can distract from the true meaning of Christmas. May you find peace in the midst of all activities and experience the joy Christmas was intended to bring.
I know that as this week unfolds some might get caught up in the craziness that can distract from the true meaning of Christmas. May you find peace in the midst of all activities and experience the joy Christmas was intended to bring.
Sassy Dreams Awake 