Today we are celebrating the engagement of two pretty awesome people. Congratulations Alyssa & Chris!

Alyssa and I go all the back to Weems Elementary together. And Chris also graduated from OHS, but a year or two ahead of us.

So in honor of their engagement, my husband and I are going to go see my pretend boyfriend. Meaning, I'm making Rob take me to see Jason Segel in The Five Year Enagement. Also, I'm kinda obsessed with Jason Segel. But Rob gets to see Emily Blunt, so really, it's win-win.



http://www.thefiveyearengagementmovie.com/

 





What do you have planned for the weekend? Have a great one!

60% of the time, it works every time....

Rob and I just came from the fertility specialist. By far, the most mind-numbing appointment of this process. Maybe it was that fact our day o' appointments started at 6:30 am and we're just now (at 1:30) getting home. Or maybe it's that, even though they don't actually test you for anything, the appointment takes two hours. Or it could be because clear and direct answers are not their specialty, but that was just awful!

What we did find out, though, is that after a pre-menopausal woman such as myself finishes up cancer treatment, she has a 50% chance of early menopause. This could be considered disconcerting for anyone who thinks they may one day want to have children. In which case, you have 3 choices for bettering yours odds of not going into menopause and having a kid. 

1. Adding a medication called Lupron to your cancer treatment regime. This is a good thing anyway, because it can help protect your ovaries during chemo. 
2. Harvest and freeze your eggs. 
3. Harvest your eggs, fertilize them, and freeze your embryos.

If you decide to freeze your eggs or embryos, and then decide not use them, you can donate them to science. You could also donate them to a family member. But you can't anonymously donate them to an infertile couple, because you have cancer and nobody wants your crummy eggs.

Oh, and then I almost lost my shit when Rob and the fertility doctor started a conversation about shark attacks. 

But now for the goods news!

Todays's bilateral MRI, right mammogram and right ultrasound shows that all is well in the eastern hemisphere. 

Can I get a HELL YEAH for having one good boob?!?

Wherever you go, there you are

Biology, Psychology, and Social Work. These three disciplines love them a genogram. Which is why I've compiled no less than FOUR of them throughout my academic career. Most professors want to you cover at least three generations of your family to get good data. So when most students turned in a nice, neat 8.5 x 11 depicting their family tree, I'm the one walking in with a poster board.



My social work genogram from last semester. You'll notice that this is just parents and siblings.
Sorry aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents - you didn't make the cut for this assignment.

Which is why, at my genetic counseling appointment today, it brought me great joy that someone else had to compile my genogram. Though I will say, she got off easy. This genogram only included blood relatives. Amateur stuff.

And then they made me swish with Scope.

So the purpose of meeting with a genetic counselor - aside from playing  a super fun game of find the weirdos in your family tree - is to determine whether I carry a genetic mutation that makes me more predisposed to develop breast and ovarian cancer than someone without the genetic mutation. <insert mutant joke here>

What they're looking for is something called BRCA. BRCA is gene that can hang out on chromosome #17 and can be an indicator of someone's likelihood to develop certain types of cancers. Both men and women can carry the BRCA gene, but even with it, breast cancer is still much less likely in men.

So right now you're thinking Um... isn't it a little late for that test? Good question! Getting tested for the BRCA gene will tell me two things: 1) how likely I am to develop cancer in the good boob [assuming the MRI and mammogram tomorrow confirms it's still good] and in my ovaries, and 2) how likely my blood relatives are to develop breast or ovarian cancer.

Here's the catch. Cancer and BRCA are not mutually exclusive. Meaning, you can have the BRCA gene and never develop breast or ovarian cancer. And... you can have breast cancer without having the BRCA gene.

What does it mean if I'm negative for BRCA? That my chances of getting another breast cancer, or ovarian cancer, are slim. If I'm postive? That other breast cancer risk increases to 60% greater than someone without the genetic mutation, and 13% for ovarian cancer.

Also, if positive, it means it's a good idea for both my parents to get tested to find out which one of them gave me the crummy gene.

So let's say, hypothetically, I test positive for BRCA. That means my mom has a 50/50 shot of being the one who passed it down. If she then gets tested and is, in fact, the culprit... I mean carrier... then both of my brothers and all of my maternal aunts and uncles also have a 50/50 shot at carrying the gene. If anyone of them also carries the BRCA gene then each of their children (my nieces and first cousins), too, have a 50/50 chance of carrying the gene mutation.

Remember that DOES NOT mean you have 50/50 odds of getting cancer. It means our gene pool may possibly contain a mutation that might give some of us an increased risk for possibly developing cancer throughout our life time. Or not. Hypothetically.

So there's your science lesson for the day. I'm paying stupid amounts of money so that I can be this smart for you all. You're welcome.

Happy Wednesday!



Pump up the jam!

Good morning and happy Tuesday everyone!

For those of you playing along at home, here's the latest on my doc appointments:

Tomorrow I meet with the Genetic Counselor. Standard protocol for someone with an "early onset" diganosis.

Then Thursday is a jam-packed day. Starting with a bilateral breast MRI and lext axillary ultrasound (and possible biopsy.) After the imaging, it's on to the fertility specialist. More standard protocol for someone with an IDC diagnosis who is, 1) young and, 2) child free. Whatever.

Monday funday means meeting with the plastic surgeon. Oh, look - 15% off lipo! How I do love a sale. Maybe they'll give me a 2-for-1 deal.

And next Thursday is the medical oncologist to talk about post-surgery care like chemo and hormone therapy. 

The grande finale is a follow up with the surgical oncologist to put the results of all these appointments together, come up with a game plan, and get me scheduled for surgery.

So what does all that mean? A LOT of frickin' time in the car, that's what! That's where you all come in. I can only listen to so much NPR and WTOP, so I need your help coming up with a kick-ass playlist for my time spent on the beltway. A cancer mix tape, if you will.

Leave a comment below with your favorite go-to moto song(s). The one that says look out world, 'cause Imma 'bout to make this day my b!tch.

Here, I'll get you started (gosh... do I have to do everything myself?)

1. Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers: Won't Back Down
2. Kelly Clarkson: What Doesn't Kill You
3. Absolutely anything by P!nk, but Raise Your Glass in particular.

Have a kick ass day!

And now for the fun stuff

So this has been a crazy busy weekend. It was supposed to have started with a circus, but instead was dinner with Dad and Rob at Sakura. Which is pretty close to a circus. There's fire and tricks, so... close enough.

Then, on to a bridal shower for my friend Kristen.

Anna, Kristen and I at Kristen's shower

Kristen and I met in 2004 when we worked together at Amen Clinics and both studied psychology at GMU. Though she followed her beau to CT in 2007, we still stay in touch and her Vegas wedding next month will be the party of the year. So the shower was hosted by our mutual friend Anna who Kristen went to high school with and I've known since the early 90's.  

Awesomely home made spread at Anna's

Next stop: Air & Space Museum!

Me and Mom chillin' at the Udvar Hazy

We let Rob tag along, too

Oh, and there was some Discovery shuttle something-or-other there

And the next two weeks show no signs of slowing down. A whole slew of med appointments: Thursday at radiology for an MRI and more imaging, next Monday with the plastic surgeon, and next Thursday with the medical oncologist. What we find out from those appointments will help the surgical oncologist better know what she's diving into and then we'll be able to schedule surgery. 

I'll also be wrapping up and turning over my current job, and getting ready to start my new position. I'll leave the Family Readiness program and start with the Combat Operational Stress Control program on May 7th. Woohoo!

And... the Spring semester at school ends on the 1st! Two more projects left then you can stick a fork in this semester 'cause it will be D - U - N done! And not just this semester, but my entire foundation year will be officially complete. Which means I'm half way there. Next up is my concentration year that I was planning to start this Summer by taking two classes. The Summer semester starts on May 15th and goes for twelve weeks, so I may have to hold off depending on what the docs say. We'll see...

Happy rainy Sunday! Stay tuned...

Huh. How 'bout that?

Rob and I were having a conversation about whether doctors were allowed to give bad news over the phone. He was convinced that, at least at some point in time, doctors had to deliver bad news in person. Which is kinda funny when you think about it. If you're waiting on test results and your doc calls you into his/her office instead of telling you over the phone, can't you pretty much assume that it's not good?

In any case, my wonderful husband was wrong. Doctors can, in fact, tell  you bad news over the phone. At about 11 o'clock in the morning. While you're sitting at your desk on a typical, rainy Wednesday. They can tell you that the report just came back this morning and that it's cancer.

At least, that's what my doctor told me.

Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma (IDC). Huh. How 'bout that?

I work with IDCs through my job all time. Incident Determination Committees, that is. The kind of IDC that determines whether someone who alleges to be the victim of domestic violence is, in fact, a victim. Not the kind of IDC that means you have some weird thing pop up in your left boob while you were on vacation in Puerto Rico that isn't supposed to be there.

Puerto Rico, by the way, is lovely. We had an amazing trip and the Yunque Rain Forest is absolutely a "must see". So maybe the weird thing in my left boob was there before we went to Puerto Rico, but that's where we were when I noticed it.

The airports check to make sure there's nothing suspicious in your luggage. But even with one of those TSA body scan thingies, they don't check to see if you have anything funny in your boobs. Bastards.

So there you have it. I turned 31 four months ago. For the first 30 years I've been relatively illness and injury free. The occasional sinus infection or stomach bug here and there. But nothing major. I've been pretty darn healthy. Never smoked. Drink occasionally. Wine is supposed to be good for you, right? I probably don't always eat the healthiest foods, but I can still fit into a size 2, so who cares.

But in the last four months I've had bronchitis, appendicitis, and now frickin' breast cancer. Fo' realz.

So follow along, won't you? You'll laugh... you'll cry... you'll want to hug your dog (I promise to post pictures of the ridiculously awesome Moxie) as I chronicle my adventures of kicking cancer in the teeth!