2:00 pm the call finally came. I about jumped out of my skin, braced myself and grabbed my phone. The doctor lead with... "LaJeanna, I have good news for you!". A lot is a blur after "benign". I didn't realize how tightly I was wound until I heard those words. I broke down. I broke down hard. In fact, I went into the ugly cry.
I struggled with letting all of you in on this Telenovela again but after all the calls and messages of prayers, love and support I am glad I did. I felt it. I appreciated it. I needed it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
One Bad Telenovela
I found a hard lump laying by the pool in Vegas on the 364th day of year three. Yep, that's right, one day shy of celebrating four years cancer free. Shit, there goes my survivor gift from Mr. Eckhoff, my party and more importantly....my sanity.
I didn't know what to do at first. I didn't want to worry anyone, not even Mr. Eckhoff and visited with two Doctors in DL by myself. At first I really didn't want to blog about it because to me it reads like a bad soap opera. It's all so full of unnecessary drama, an overused plot line and even the same villain over and over- Cancer. And then there's me, the STAR of this freak show, stuck in a role I just can't break out of.
After a scolding from my friend, I finally told Mr. Eckhoff and off we went back to Mayo. After an ultrasound, a mammogram and a visit with my doctor, we moved on to a biopsy. This was Friday.
I'm still waiting on my results.
I'm ok, at least I think I am ok. I was worried I wasn't for a minute when this weekend I ordered a new bed online. I was sore from my biopsy and thought "If I get sick or need another surgery I can't lay in this uncomfortable bed. I need a new bed!". My friend assured me this was not THAT irrational, but if I order a side by side Polaris or $1,500 stiletto heels she would need to intervene. We shall see....
I didn't know what to do at first. I didn't want to worry anyone, not even Mr. Eckhoff and visited with two Doctors in DL by myself. At first I really didn't want to blog about it because to me it reads like a bad soap opera. It's all so full of unnecessary drama, an overused plot line and even the same villain over and over- Cancer. And then there's me, the STAR of this freak show, stuck in a role I just can't break out of.
After a scolding from my friend, I finally told Mr. Eckhoff and off we went back to Mayo. After an ultrasound, a mammogram and a visit with my doctor, we moved on to a biopsy. This was Friday.
I'm still waiting on my results.
I'm ok, at least I think I am ok. I was worried I wasn't for a minute when this weekend I ordered a new bed online. I was sore from my biopsy and thought "If I get sick or need another surgery I can't lay in this uncomfortable bed. I need a new bed!". My friend assured me this was not THAT irrational, but if I order a side by side Polaris or $1,500 stiletto heels she would need to intervene. We shall see....
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
PAPER SWIMSUITS
So, yesterday I posted that I was feeling pretty calm. And I was. That is until a bird flew into our windshield. I screamed "oh no, this is a bad sign!" Mr. Eckhoff was screaming back...."what sign?, we don't believe in signs!". I was crying and maybe hyperventilating saying "this is not good, this is definitely not good".
I know a lot of people are praying for us and sending hugs and positive feelings. I have to say, I have felt them and I am grateful. Its the only explainable way that Mr. Eckhoff indulges me in these little fits of crazy and the only way I am able to get through them.
At Mayo the back waiting room for mammograms and ultrasounds is possibly the most depressing place I have ever been. It's large, so we don't have to be too close to each other. We don't have to make eye contact and we certainly don't make small talk. I don't think we dare. Each of us sitting silently in our blue robes waiting to find out our fate. It's breast cancer awareness month and for some reason someone thought it would be a good idea to put giant, frilly, impossibly happy posters covered in pink ribbons, everywhere. It's ridiculous. I think we are already VERY aware.
My lump is large. You can see it coming out of my chest. So I'm surprised when they start the ultrasound on the wrong breast. Is this really happening right now? They keep me laying down when the doctor comes in and sits eye level to deliver her findings. She seems very serious when she takes a big breath and states "You do have a very large mass." She pauses and all the air is suddenly sucked out of the room and I can't breath. I turn away, tears start down the side of my face and everything starts to spin.
She doesn't grab my hand for comfort. She just sits silently waiting for me to breath again. Waiting for me to collect myself. She continues with "We believe it is benign." What did you just say? Benign? Benign? Cheese and rice lady, why couldn't you have led with that?? You really need to work on your delivery.
My next appointment is with my surgeon. She tells us after meeting with the radiologist she is....wait for it...here it is..."98% sure"...it is fat cells that have died. I swing my head in Mr.Eckhoff's direction. He sees the panic in my eyes. (If you don't understand how hard this is for me to hear, read my past blog about the 98% diagnosis and my family). This tumor, this mass, this lesion, whatever you want to call it, needs to come out. Surgery is scheduled for November 4th and from there they will send it to pathology to be tested. Then we will be 100%.
On the way home Mr. Eckhoff reminds me that this is a win. He is right. And I am upset with myself for grabbing on to that sliver of doubt, that 2%. But it's more than that. I'm pissed because I let cancer win even before we got here. It won when I went to those dark places. It won when I started thinking of my children's lives without me. It won when I started thinking insane thoughts like the reason my dog is being clingy is because she can sense cancer in me. And it certainly won today when I chose to grab on to that 2% chance, that doubt, instead of the good news of benign. No more. I just can't let it win anymore, whether it be physically or mentally.
The ride home was great. We laughed, real laughs, as we talked about how my ass fat grouped together and decided they were going to try and make a run for it. "Get back where we belong!" Mr. Eckhoff, the romantic he is, suggested we pull over at the nearest motel (yes, he said motel), grab a box of wine (yes, he said box), buy a couple of paper swimsuits out of the vending machine, and dammit, let's celebrate! We didn't get that crazy and made it home late last night. But yes, today I think I feel like celebrating.
I know a lot of people are praying for us and sending hugs and positive feelings. I have to say, I have felt them and I am grateful. Its the only explainable way that Mr. Eckhoff indulges me in these little fits of crazy and the only way I am able to get through them.
At Mayo the back waiting room for mammograms and ultrasounds is possibly the most depressing place I have ever been. It's large, so we don't have to be too close to each other. We don't have to make eye contact and we certainly don't make small talk. I don't think we dare. Each of us sitting silently in our blue robes waiting to find out our fate. It's breast cancer awareness month and for some reason someone thought it would be a good idea to put giant, frilly, impossibly happy posters covered in pink ribbons, everywhere. It's ridiculous. I think we are already VERY aware.
My lump is large. You can see it coming out of my chest. So I'm surprised when they start the ultrasound on the wrong breast. Is this really happening right now? They keep me laying down when the doctor comes in and sits eye level to deliver her findings. She seems very serious when she takes a big breath and states "You do have a very large mass." She pauses and all the air is suddenly sucked out of the room and I can't breath. I turn away, tears start down the side of my face and everything starts to spin.
She doesn't grab my hand for comfort. She just sits silently waiting for me to breath again. Waiting for me to collect myself. She continues with "We believe it is benign." What did you just say? Benign? Benign? Cheese and rice lady, why couldn't you have led with that?? You really need to work on your delivery.
My next appointment is with my surgeon. She tells us after meeting with the radiologist she is....wait for it...here it is..."98% sure"...it is fat cells that have died. I swing my head in Mr.Eckhoff's direction. He sees the panic in my eyes. (If you don't understand how hard this is for me to hear, read my past blog about the 98% diagnosis and my family). This tumor, this mass, this lesion, whatever you want to call it, needs to come out. Surgery is scheduled for November 4th and from there they will send it to pathology to be tested. Then we will be 100%.
On the way home Mr. Eckhoff reminds me that this is a win. He is right. And I am upset with myself for grabbing on to that sliver of doubt, that 2%. But it's more than that. I'm pissed because I let cancer win even before we got here. It won when I went to those dark places. It won when I started thinking of my children's lives without me. It won when I started thinking insane thoughts like the reason my dog is being clingy is because she can sense cancer in me. And it certainly won today when I chose to grab on to that 2% chance, that doubt, instead of the good news of benign. No more. I just can't let it win anymore, whether it be physically or mentally.
The ride home was great. We laughed, real laughs, as we talked about how my ass fat grouped together and decided they were going to try and make a run for it. "Get back where we belong!" Mr. Eckhoff, the romantic he is, suggested we pull over at the nearest motel (yes, he said motel), grab a box of wine (yes, he said box), buy a couple of paper swimsuits out of the vending machine, and dammit, let's celebrate! We didn't get that crazy and made it home late last night. But yes, today I think I feel like celebrating.
Monday, October 6, 2014
GO-TIME
Kinda weird......It's like my right breast has a mind of its own. All the way in the car yesterday and this morning it has been twitching. I try to convince myself it's really not that odd because my muscle is in fact on top of my implant. But, I just can't shake the feeling it KNOWS we are heading in to Mayo and it's GO-TIME!
Please don't let me down right breast.
Please don't let me down right breast.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Ass Fat Lump
Lets get you all up to speed....
Found a lump in my right breast over a month ago. Researched the shit out of it online (for self diagnosis of course) and convince myself that it may be cancer. Called breast health doctor for that little appointment I may have skipped months ago. Stress, worry, crying, anxiety and then overly false positivity ensue. Beat myself up for all the indulging in unhealthy food and drink this summer and for skipping that little appointment.
Travel to Mayo and Dr. orders ultrasound. Young intern comes out to inform me it will be another day and a half before I will be able to have ultrasound. I proceed to let this moment be the moment that all of the above mentioned emotions bubble up and explode. Tell them to cancel ultrasound and walk off. (Although the way I said it might have been a bit lengthier than that.)
Meet with my Surgeon, who totally gets me and is a rock star. With my approval, she decides to go rogue and stick a large needle in my chest. I lay completely still so that the large needle in my chest does not puncture my implant. I can tell the nurse is a little uncomfortable and I can't look.
They did fat grafting during my last surgery and my surgeon thinks it may be dead fat cells that have clumped together....Yeah! But that relief is short lived, as days later I am called to return for further testing. A direct quote from my doctor..."We are not sure what this is yet, but whatever it is, it shouldn't be there."
They did fat grafting during my last surgery and my surgeon thinks it may be dead fat cells that have clumped together....Yeah! But that relief is short lived, as days later I am called to return for further testing. A direct quote from my doctor..."We are not sure what this is yet, but whatever it is, it shouldn't be there."
Which brings us to now. I just threw up. I just watched a video on CNN about a young mother who has terminal cancer and will leave her young children behind. I really need to pull my shit together and stop watching and reading all of these stories. I need this blog again because I am going to some very dark places. I need to stay positive because I start my tests Monday morning and they are talking possible surgery.
I just really need to get back to the place where I am laughing again. Kinda like when my good friend said. "I guess this is what happens when you put ass fat in your chest".
I just really need to get back to the place where I am laughing again. Kinda like when my good friend said. "I guess this is what happens when you put ass fat in your chest".
Friday, June 20, 2014
HOOCHIE MAMA
My last surgery was over Mother's Day. They redid the tissue donor site on my right side, which means they recut the muscle and replaced the "hammock" holding the implant in. It's been an amazing improvement with my muscles finally accepting that this is just the way it's going to be from now on. But the best part of this last surgery is that I received a fair amount of liposuction for the fat grafting and Nipples. Yes, I said it...Nipples!!!
Its wonderful and at first I would find myself wearing just a tank top at home and walking by mirrors to get a glance at my new waist and my new "you know whats". I won't lie, its made me giddy to see them back after two and a half years.
The other day I had to go to the store so I threw on another tank top over the one I was wearing and ran out the door. In the grocery store I couldn't help notice a couple of women giving me the stink eye. Well, whatever, how rude! Then, at the liquor store, I couldn't help notice a couple men give me a double look. And the the cashier could hardly look at me and seemed rather flustered. I really didn't know if I should be insulted or flattered. Ok, you got me, I was just a teeny bit flattered. Until.....
.......Until I got home and saw myself in one of those mirrors. What I didn't realize was that throwing on another tank top did not flatten and hide the new nips. They haven't started to retract during the healing process yet, so at all times it looks like I am smuggling peas, or worse yet, grapes. I was running around town with nipple hard ons, like a hoochie mama, for all the town to see. And let me assure you it was not subtle!
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
OVER-SHARE APOLOGY & THANK YOU
When you have a say in how you want your breasts, it can be a bit overwhelming. You see, for a normal breast enhancement you already have something to work with. For a total reconstruction, you are starting from scratch. So, when making decisions you start drawing a blank, like you never even had the damn things once.
Honestly, when you go through breast cancer all modesty about breasts go out the window. Medically they are constantly out in the open, photographed, drawn on, and man-handled (not in a good way either!).
So, I often caught myself staring! You kind of forget women can get downright uncomfortable when you ask them questions about their boobs. Like how many CC's are they, what 's their bra size, can I see them, and so forth and so forth. Especially when the women didn't go through breast reconstruction and are total strangers. For this I apologize.
Now that I have my own and I'm close to the finish line, you can all go about your business without worry of being accosted at Caribou Coffee. I feel great about my choices and I'm kinda obsessed with my own right now.
But lastly, let me just say a big thank you to all the women who did patiently answer all my questions, regardless if they had walked in my shoes or not. And especially a Thank you for those who had absolutely no problem over-sharing to show me what they were talking about.
Honestly, when you go through breast cancer all modesty about breasts go out the window. Medically they are constantly out in the open, photographed, drawn on, and man-handled (not in a good way either!).
So, I often caught myself staring! You kind of forget women can get downright uncomfortable when you ask them questions about their boobs. Like how many CC's are they, what 's their bra size, can I see them, and so forth and so forth. Especially when the women didn't go through breast reconstruction and are total strangers. For this I apologize.
Now that I have my own and I'm close to the finish line, you can all go about your business without worry of being accosted at Caribou Coffee. I feel great about my choices and I'm kinda obsessed with my own right now.
But lastly, let me just say a big thank you to all the women who did patiently answer all my questions, regardless if they had walked in my shoes or not. And especially a Thank you for those who had absolutely no problem over-sharing to show me what they were talking about.
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