Six years gone

Hard to believe that six years ago, we were sitting and listening to Dr. Ng tell me that I had IDC. My whole world changed that day, and nothing has been the same since. How can it? But I have done what Dr. Schaffer told me to -- "Just live" she said. And I have.

On Dec. 23, she authorized the end of Arimidex for me, after five long years. She said I was the best candidate for not continuing for another five years -- my tumor was small and I had received the most aggressive treatment available.

I have no qualms about stopping. I had been upset at the thought of having to take Arimidex for another five years. I have been counting down year after year to stopping this medication.

Time to work on a life without Arimidex.

Extending hormonal therapy for breast cancer

This is a very confusing study but oncologists are using this to extend hormonal therapy from five years to 10 years. I was looking forward to stopping Arimidex in October, but alas, this is not to be.

"But some experts noted that the women who took the drug an extra five years did not live longer on the whole than those in the control group. They said it was far from clear that the benefit of 10 years of an aromatase inhibitor outweighed the risk of side effects like bone loss and joint and muscle pain."

Seriously? This is a rubbish study but everyone is jumping on the bandwagon.

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/06/health/extending-estrogen-suppressor-may-aid-breast-cancer-patients-study-says.html?_r=0


https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/to-your-health/wp/2016/06/05/extending-hormone-therapy-reduces-risk-of-breast-cancer-recurrence/

Four Years Cancerfree

I did not forget the date of my diagnosis or the date of my surgery ... I acknowledged them and I got on with my life. Time has eased the terror and given a kind of normalcy to my life, but it never really leaves you. How can it? You carry the memories with you forever.

I read about Sandra Lee's diagnosis today and I had to think for a second about the kind of cancer I had. See what I mean that some things fade with time, other things stay with you forever? I had invasive ductal carcinoma (IDC) -- it means that the cancer had spread outside the milk ducts. Sandra Lee's cancer is ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) -- meaning that the cancer is confined to the milk ducts and has not spread outside. Her cancer is very survivable but I don't know what the pathology report revealed about the nature of her tumor. My pathology report revealed that I had the most aggressive of cancers - triple positive - meaning it was estrogen+, progesterone+ and HER2+. It would have been a death sentence had a doctor named Dennis Slamon not invented Herceptin. I get to live because of him.

Cancer changes you in so many ways you cannot even begin to explain to anyone who has not been through it. The eyes through which you view the world are so different ... it's as if you have a new world to navigate. I don't view it as a bad thing ... just different.

Would I rather not have had cancer? A resounding "yes" but this is my world now and I live in it. If anyone or anything is not in it with me, it's because I had to move on without you. I don't have any time to waste on anyone or anything that doesn't deserve me.

Dr. Ellen Shaw de Paredes

I woke up this morning to the awful news on the front page of our newspaper that Dr. de Paredes had died on Saturday, Aug. 30, 2014, at the age of 62. What do you say about a woman who saved your life?

Every year for over a decade I put my life in Dr. de Paredes' hands and I trusted her with that life. In January, 2011, as she held my hand through that last awful biopsy that changed my life forever, I knew something bad was coming down the pike. And in that awful moment when you get the news that brings your whole world crashing down, Dr. de Paredes already had a plan laid out for me, and out of the chaos came some order and the glimmer of  hope.

I have never trusted a doctor the way I trusted Dr. de Paredes and ultimately perhaps that is the greatest gift you can give any doctor. She was the ultimate professional - a great doctor who was caring and compassionate and treated each of her patients with dignity and respect. I never doubted for a second that she would give my case her full attention and the best she could possibly do.

So, Dr. de Paredes, one last time -- thank you for my life. And it goes without saying that I will never forget you.

http://www.timesdispatch.com/news/local/ellen-shaw-de-paredes-breast-imaging-specialist-dies-at/article_b85ec7ed-0770-53ef-9854-dfdc4a5b1479.html

3D Mammography

There are always some things that invoke some trepidation and dread, no matter how positive you try to be ... my annual mammography is one of them. I do it gladly because it saved my life but it also marks a time that tested my body and my spirit.

This year we were given the option of trying a new technology -- 3D Mammography: http://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/imaging/locations_directions/green_spring_station/tomosynthesis.html
It's FDA approved but it isn't yet covered by most insurance companies. I didn't think $60 was too much to pay for something like this. I figured that it was a low cost to pay for peace of mind.

What I had not reckoned with was that it would magnify potentially problematic areas that a normal mammogram could not. And when Dr. de Paredes herself came in to do the ultrasound, I felt my heart sink, in remembrance of the last time Dr. de Paredes came into the room and my whole world changed.

But I got my notification in the mail yesterday -- "We are happy to inform you your mammogram on 01/31/2014 showed no suspicious abnormalities." Thank you, God.

I am not out of the woods yet. I have an MRI on Feb. 13 and then I can breathe easy for another year.

Third Anniversary of Diagnosis

There are some anniversaries that can't really be celebrated but must be acknowledged. This is one of them. It seems hard in the quiet of the night to think that three years ago today, I sat in a little room and listened to the doctor say those dreaded words to me -- "You have invasive ductal carcinoma" and me sitting there thinking -- "What is that exactly?"

What did I learn from this? Perhaps the biggest lesson I have taken away from cancer is that your spirit can see you through the worst and ugliest of times. If you believe, all things are possible, and that massive source of strength in you just feeds your soul and your body. I don't know where it came from, but I thank God for it every day.

I made a promise to myself to treasure all the moments of this precious life that I've been given, and not to squander a moment of it on things and people who don't deserve me. Being afraid of doing what you know to be right destroys your soul. If you cannot climb up that moutain, you will never see the glory and the joy that is on the other side. Is it possible that cancer has taught me to be fearless? Rather ironic that this fearsome, loathsome disease, did not break me ... it made me stronger.

What should I do today? Absolutely nothing differently from what I do everyday and that is the triumph -- that I am here to do those things.

I could not possibly have come through those three years without my wonderful husband and amazing child, who fought down their own fears, to help me crush this disease. We have love and that is enough.

And the prayers of my family and friends wrapped their warm around me and helped me get through the tough times when my hair fell out, and my body was so worn out that I could barely move, and when everything hurt, and I wondered "can I make it through to the end?"

I have made it and on this day I say a prayer of gratitude.

Merry Christmas 2013

This is my third Christmas after this crappy disease and I am grateful for all the wonderful years I have been given and all the things I have been able to share -- Sarah's graduation, her engagement, our 25th anniversary, Hawaii.

So very much to look forward to.