Good news!

Today we had our oncology appointment with Dr. Bergman. It last all of 15 minutes. He checked mom's lymphnodes under her left arm and said that he thought the swelling has gone down. He said that she has gained some weight and looks to be in good health. Overall he was very happy with the progress. We'll have another PET scan in three weeks and a follow-up with him in four. So, we can kind of breathe easy for a couple weeks.

He said that we would probably be doing PET scans every 4-4.5 months. It seems like such a long time in between appointments, but I guess that is what has to be done.

So that is the update for now.....as I am writing this I am thinking about how I'll look back on this. When will I look back on this? Will I look back on this? Is it good to document this journey? You see how my head spins out of control? I guess, for the time being, it's good to write down what has happened so that I can remind mom. We have an appointment with her surgeon tonight at 5:45. Mom says I don't have to go, but.........

Dream

I have been feeling pretty okay the past couple of days. I had a terrible dream last night that mom was really upset about her diagnosis. She was crying and saying "WHY ME??". It was a horrific dream to have. My mom has been nothing but solid during this whole time. I guess that's why the dream was so jarring...she was so vulnerable and needy.

As I've said before, I think we have all been lulled into a sense of security. When I was at the doc last week she was asking about how mom is handling the diagnosis. I told her that she isn't really facing the facts and the doc said that she needed to. But my question is, does she? We are now about a month removed from the hysteria and things are going well. Mom is walking with only a trace of a limp sometimes. She feels stronger and just last night she told me that she has started taking the steps again at work. What a huge difference in just a month!

This surely means she all right.....right?

A slight sigh of relief

So, Kasey's ultrasound and mammograms came back to say that she has a cyst. The doctor wants her to come back in two months for another check. At that point they will probably drain it and then she'll just have to have regular follow-up appointments. I was so, so relieved when I got the call. I just couldn't understand how we were all going to deal with it if she did indeed have cancer.

So now that that is off my plate, my mind has shifted slightly to 4-5-11. The date of the house fire that took our neighbors life. I woke up at 3 am last night (this morning) and was reliving the evacuation, the police car ride, the look of the house...all of it. Brian and I have had to claw our way back to feeling normal and safe in our house. We have the constant daily reminder of the fire due to the plot of land next door. EVERYONE keeps asking, "is your house put back together yet?" I tell you what, that question annoys the living shit out of me.

It's been such a rough time starting with mom's diagnosis. When are things going to get better? I was telling someone the other day that I feel lulled into a sense of security right now. Mom doesn't have an oncology appointment until 4-25, she is feeling somewhat normal, Kasey's scan came back okay, we are a year removed from the fire tragedy.......what is going to happen after mom's next scan? Is my world going to crash down again? Is this the last Easter that I am going to have with her? The Zoloft is really supressing some of my anxiety but I am very fearful of when I have to feel things again.

So, I guess I am living in a dulled state of fear. Fear about my family's safety (irrational, we are going to be fine), fear about my mom's mortality (rational...who knows how long we have), fear, fear, fear. I don't think I'm paralyzed by it...it's just kind of there. When will I go back to normal Jessica? One without medication? After mom passes? But how can I handle that without medicine?

And the second to last sentence fucking sucks. Why am I talking about my 51 year old mother passing? Breast cancer is a mother fucking bitch and I hate every second of it. Wow.....that is probably the first emotional reponse I've had in a few weeks. But it is so true. This sucks and I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Well.....

And the shoe dropped....slightly

Well, as I said in an earlier post, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, if I didn't say it, that's how I've been feeling. I got a call from mom last night at 9 (which never happens) telling me that my sister found a lump in her breast. In my Zoloft haze, I know that I told my mom that everything is going to be fine and that I would give little sister a call to make sure she schedules an appointment.

I immediately called her and made sure she knew that I knew and asked when she was going to make an appointment - she is supposed to be doing that today. My mom discovered a lump in her breast in her 30s and it turned out to just be a cyst. I am sure that this is going to be with the case with little sister as well....it's just that you never know. Little sister unfortunately has a mom with breast cancer and an aunt. I guess thankfully, I am not blood related to my aunt, although I feel like I am. Took me a second to realize I wasn't.

So I called mom this morning and let her know that I talked to little sister and that she is going to be making an appointment. Mom seems to think that she will go because her big sister told her so. Mom thanked me for being a good sister - that felt good.

So the waiting game begins. Cyst or more?

Numb?

At this point in the whole cancer process I feel very numb and disconnected to the disease. I've been on Zoloft now for about three weeks and I guess I feel like a robot. I can talk about my mom's diagnosis without getting upset. My heart doesn't clench when someone asks. I feel like people think that I must be very callous to talk about mom's cancer in such a mellow way.

I am very conflicted by how I feel. On one hand it feels great to not be crying everyday. To feel no hope. To be able to get out of bed. On the other hand....shouldn't I be feeling something? I feel like I am being lulled into a sense of security that is going to start crash, crash, crashing down on me any second.

We were told at mom's oncology appointment on March 16 that she will not be getting another PET scan for at least two months. Her hormone treatment needs time to work. I found this frustrating because it seems foreign to me that a pill is going to make her better when there is cancer coursing through her body. She has agreed to go for a second opinion after her May PET scan.

This past weekend was my birthday and I kept wondering if this is the last one I am going to have with my mom. Even while writing this, I feel like a robot. Like someone has invaded my body. I feel almost emotionless. Is this good? What will happen when I feel again? I can't stay on this medication forever and I also know now that my mom can't live forever. What a nasty conundrum this is.

Just for the future when I look back on this, mom is still walking with a slight limp. She says she is feeling better, but I am curious as to how truthful she is being with this.

Game Changer

Walking into Cleveland Browns stadium on Thursday, August 26, 2010, I got a phone call that would forever change my life. It was mom on the other end saying that the doctor thought they found breast cancer. That one simple sentence has radically changed how I view so, so many things. I had no idea that in the next year and a half, my family would be put through hell.

I remember sitting on a bench outside of the stadium with my husband, in shock of what I was hearing. I had to shake it off and head into the Browns pre-season game. I chose to have a couple beers, leave early and then call my friend Sue at 11 pm and have her talk to me about breast cancer. I was a wreck.

In the next few weeks we got the diagnosis, stage 2A breast cancer localized in the left breast. Beatable with chemo, radiation and hormone treatment. If only we had been able to follow through with the original plan, we wouldn't be sitting here in March of 2011 with mom having stage 4 metastatic breast cancer that has moved to her bones, spine, ribs and lymph nodes under both arms.

Stupid breast cancer.