What do we have here?

Why, yes. Yes that is a 4.00 for the semester.

Take that, chemo brain!

Operation "Social Life"

...has been in full effect this past week. It didn't hurt that it was birthday-weekend-apalooza for Rob. 

We started the festivities by catching Chuck and Sean's band StumblKrow.

What down on the farm shindig would be complete without a bonfire...

...and some homemade wine?

Next up was a celebration at Firebirds (the wine bottles are a dead give-away).

Round 3 was ice cream cake...

...with this little guy.

Then it was back to the real world of medical appointments. Last week's ultrasound came back with some good news and some we're not sure what that means so we're going to keep poking around news. The tennis ball sized cyst is now more like a golf ball. Which is a good indicator to leave it the heck alone!

But... this scan and first one both showed adenomatous endometrial hyperplasia. Endo- what? Super common in tamoxifen users who have been on the drug 2 or 3 years. For 4 month tamoxifen users like myself, slightly less common. So the hyperplasia can, possibly, sometimes, on occassion be pre-malignant. And the tamoxifen does double the risk of gynecologic cancers. Now I know double sounds really big and scarey. But when I say double I mean the average risk for a non-tamoxifen user is 0.5 in 1,000. So 1 in 1,000 doesn't sound all that bad. Particular when the rate of reducing BC recurrence is much higher. So the benefit outweighs the risk. See, it's like saving money buying stuff all over again. But it does mean going in for yet another test at the end of the month. Seriously, the poking and prodding never ceases.

So... I celebrated this with a new pair of sandals...



...and dinner with Stacey. Where I ate All. The. Sushi.



It's only weird if it doesn't work

You know those policy analysis and social justice classes I've been slaving away at? Oh yea, those are D.O.N.E. done. As my social work mentor once said "You come up for air at the end with a Masters degree in one hand and no friends in the other." I figure surfacing for random gasps at a social life here and there is better than nothing. So I plan to spend the next three long, luxurious weeks I have off from academia catching up with all of you. My dance card is wide open!

And how have I celebrated this retreat from mental rigours so far? Well, with another ultrasound, natch. No word yet on what's going on in ovary town. Monday-ish, hopefully, for that. But, as the ultrasound imaging place just so happens to be one-in-the-same as last year's mammogram imaging place, I've made it a special point not to park in the same parking spot or sit in the same waiting room chair as last year. Superstitious? Maybe. But it's only weird if it doesn't work, right?

Use it or lose, sister!

Warning: I talk a lot about ovaries and such here. 

If that's not your kinda thing, please enjoy this adorable video of PeeWee teaching Rob to high-five instead. 

Or! This one of PeeWee teaching Rob to dance.

I have no idea how to rotate these!

Amidst all this cancerversary talk, I neglected to tell you about my recent visits (yes, visits, with a "S") to Dr. S (OB/Gyn). It was that time o' year again for an annual exam. 

*** Let me just preface this story by saying, I thought everything I read about cancer patients experiencing posttraumatic stress issues from their diagnosis and treatment was a bunch of BS. For the last 4+ years I've worked with people with very real and very actual PTSD. People who, voluntarily, said "Let me get this straight? You want me to leave my family for 7 months at a time. Fly into another country. Where they're going to shoot at me and try to blow me up. So that I can protect them from themselves? Where do I sign up?!?" So sitting through a bunch of treatment really doesn't sound all that traumatic. ***

Now, where was I? Oh yea, annual exam time. Well, I can tell you, the breast exam went much better this year than last. Pap was normal and, fortunately, pretty much everything else was good, too. One concern with chemo is that it can, sometimes, put a premenopausal woman into early menopause. Oncologists will tell you it can take between 6 and 12 months for things to get back to normal. If at all.  And the OB's got some ways of checking that out. Namely, by checking out your FSH, estrogen and testosterone levels. Good news - all are business as usual. 

As an extra let's just take a look at things to be sure, she also sent me for a pelvic ultrasound. <Seriously, it's not too late to go back to the PeeWee videos.> Through which she found that tennis ball I'd lost a few months ago. Or, a tennis ball-sized ovarian cyst.

40-love, anyone?

So I (mostly) resisted my freak-out instinct, and learned: 1) They're super, super common 2) It could be a Tamoxifen side-effect, or could just be 32 year old non-baby having ovaries 3) 95% of them are non-cancerous. And with a blood test, Dr. S confirmed that (for once!) I am the 95%.

A lot of times, these things go away on their own. Most of the time, you never even know you have them. But they tend do to a whole lot less of that going away on their own thing when they get that big. Which means Dr. S will have to go in after it. Before it ruptures. 'Cause that would be bad. (Really, really, ovaries? What kind of bullshit is that?!?) Which brings me to the conclusion that I've officially reached the age where all my reproductiveness (sorry - you were warned) is all Eff you, lady, we're outta here!

Herceptin #16...but who's counting?

Um...hello. Hi, there. That would be me. I'm counting. Or, miscounting, apparently. I definitely thought today was infusion 16 of 17. Yup...thought wrong. Turns out I actually have two more left. Which is fine by me. That just means there's 6 weeks to scheme I mean plan how to celebrate 18 successful infusions. Besides, 18 is a nice round number and it's scheduled on the one year anniversary of Chemo Day #1. Well played, universe, well played. 

Also, I think this is probably the best way I can think of to celebrate.

Just in case the Tory Burch fairy is reading, it's the Robinson Middy Satchel Leather Floral Handbag in Goldenrod. The Small Printed Robinson Double Zip Tote in Daisy Multi is lovely, as well. Also, subtlety is clearly one of my finer qualities.

Full Circle (or, What do to with a lemon)

Man, oh, man have I been slacking! There's just so much to get you caught up on. Where to start? Where to start...

Cancerversary number IV sounds like as good a place to start as any. And that just so happened to have been April 12th. A day that will forever... never mind. How about, it was the day I had a core needle biopsy of the yet-to-be-named evil twin. Two words about core needle biopsies: They. Suck. Seriously, I don't think that's anyone's idea of a good time. But! Mom did take me out for pizza after. And then Rob took me to see Tosh. So I guess the day wasn't all bad. 

Tosh Tour Twenty Twelve. Yes, he brings his doggies with him!

How did I spend the day this year? With a pedicure and getting my hair done, of course.

Happy spring-time toes!

 And then what happened? Well... this was actually a relatively school work-free weekend, so...

We celebrated with the birthday girl

And had our first baby sitting adventure with this little guy...

He means business

And had a puppy play date with breast friend, fellow cancer ass-kicker, and all around lovely person ...

This brings us to the next cancerversary... and this a big one. The cancerversary, really. One year ago tomorrow, I called the doctor's office for the biopsy results. The 72 business hours they said it would take for the results had come and gone. I probably should have suspected something when I spoke with the nurse and she said she would have to have the doctor call me. And, well, you know the rest from there. What I forgot to tell you at that time? I still finished up that Spring semester with a 4.0. Not too shabby. 

So I guess it's a pretty good time to say "Thanks!" Thanks to all of you for taking this crazy trip with me. And thanks for helping me remember...

What a difference a year makes: Part III

Oops...I almost let this little cancerversary slip by. What can I say? I've just been having so much fun writing social policy analysis today! Jealous much? Without further adieu...

One year ago today, I finally made it to my first mammogram. If you recall, that pesky little appendicitis episode made me reschedule the mammo not once, but twice! But I finally made it, and it went a little something like this...

Coincidentally, that day also marked 5 years since I first laid eyes on this handsome man...

Astute observers will note this photo isn't actually from April 6th, but from 5 weeks later. Meh...close enough.