My mother’s condition has not improved even with the volumn of antibiotics that they have been pumping into her non-stop. I see her catheter bag turning a shade of brown which tells me that her kidneys are shutting down. Her body looks as though she is full of fluid, but surprisingly she does not seem to be in any respiratory distress.  I go everyday to be with her, to bring her some cut up watermelon (even though she has no appetite), to talk about certain things she wants me to know (My sister Lynn gets her wedding rings and she wants to me to remove them from her fingers), how much she loves her grandchildren (and boy did they love her) and tells me even though I don’t know it yet..” You are destined to do many great things and there is a plan for you.” I tell her how much she is loved and how lucky I was to have a mother like her. I notice a sense of calm and I think she knows that she ready to say ‘Goodybe”.

I called most of her friends to let them know that her time is coming to end and I will be moving her to Hospice.  Her pain is increasing and I yell at the nurses “Give her anything she wants”!!Even though she enters Hospice the following day, and the bolus of morphine is now consuming her body I call everyone on my cell phone sisters, Larry, TJ, Alexis, Christy, Brady and tell them to talk in the phone to say goodbye….

At 1:35 AM I get a call from the nurse.

“Your mom has passed, would you like to see her”

“No”, I said. “I want to remember her in my own way”

Part of me died with my mother that morning.

Goodbye my dear sweet Mom.

Waiting for a doctor to arrive to let us know what is going on with my mother’s health, we were informed that they are waiting on the echocardiogram results before the physician will see her.

The night before I received a phone call from Larry that he was going to take the early bird flight to Florida to come see his favorite, Barbara. My mother and Larry had a special bond. In many ways Larry reminded her of my father. They both had a daunting presence in a room, impeccable manners, brilliant self-made men, and handsome too. They had tons of fun together. Both loved to cook, have dinner parties, drink Champagne. He was very good to my mother. He told me numerous times how much he loved having her in his life.  So, when my mother asked me when Larry was coming I knew that things were progressing too fast on the decline.

“I just heard from him last night and he should be here by 11:00 am. I’ll swing by the house and cut some watermelon up for you.”

“No, I’m not hungry. I just want to see Larry.”

It was the very first time I saw her cry. In walked a young Indian cardiologist.

“Mrs. Tremear, you are very ill with pneumonia and your aorta is significantly stenosed”. “I’m afraid with your deterioating condition surgery is not an option with aortic repair”. My heart sank as I watched my darling mother show the sign of understanding that her end of life is approaching. 

 ”We would like to get you to ICU, monitor your condition, but I do believe that you should be considering Hospice at this point”.

And, just then, in this incredibly sad discussion, my mother says:

“You know something, Doctor? You really are a CUTE YOUNG man!!” and then whole room exploded with laughter.

Excusing myself from the room, tears burst out with such extreme sadness of knowing time is drawing to an end for this vibrant, amazing woman. The nurse followed me outside the room.

“Wow, your mother is one amazing woman”!!

Yes, she is. She touches everyone in her life. Even a physician who tells her that she is dying.

I made it safely to my mom’s place in Florida and quickly got into her fancy emerald green Cadillac Seville to get to the hospital.

In 1977 my parents sold our home in Los Altos, California to move to Florida.  My father’s reasoning was that he wanted to live in Florida since his early days growing up in New York. My mother’s reasons were that her own mother had remarried and moved to Port Charlotte, FL.  Of course, I was part of that move to Florida as well since I had just graduated in 1976.  My parents really enjoyed Florida and had many happy years together before my dad’s passing away in 1990. My mother, always the social butterfly, had well established friends in the neighborhood and was involved in many charitable organizations. She told me many times that her friendships and hobbies sustained her after my father’s death. Plus, the medical facilities were top-notch for an ever growing elderly population.  She also met a very nice man by the name of Bill.  They hit it off at a Halloween cocktail party in a chilly October of 1992 (she dressed up as cleopatra!). They had a fast courtship and married the following spring. Unfourtunately, Bill passed on the following year from a massive heart attack. But, like my mother had always done before, she resumed her life and became even more of a social dynamo. There was no way she would of left  Florida  and her world of bridge clubs, parties, and volunteer commitments and so many friends!

But, the heat..yikes it was unbearable. Particulary in the middle of summer. I cranked up the AC in the caddy and headed over to the hospital. My left breast ached.

Arriving at the ER, (which I just assumed that the ambulance brought her too) ..I asked where my mother was.

“She’s right around the corner, you will see her” said the ER Nurse.

I turned the corner, and saw someone on a gurney.  That was not my mother, it couldn’t be. 

I saw a very old looking, worn out woman who was slumped over on a hospital bed. 

“Mom”?

“Hi Lorie, I have been waiting for you” as she struggled with the oxygen mask and nasal cannula to speak.

My god I thought to myself, this is significantly worse than I thought.

6:30 AM arrived quickly for my flight to Florida to see my mother. Larry had left the day before for a meeting he had in Chicago. My dear friend picked me up so I could hitch a ride to the airport. While waiting for my flight, I received a call from my Mom’s neighbor RC that ” Barb has been transported by ambulance due to her breathing issues she was experiencing over night”.

I knew that my mother had some chronic medical problems, diabetes, kidney disease and congestive heart failure problems.

” Was she in breathing distress?”, I asked.

“Yes, I believe so”, said RC. “We would like to pick you up when your flight arrives here and bring you to your Mom’s”

“Thank you” . 

Earlier in the day I had felt a slight twinge in my left breast. I wasn’t sure if it was over-packing, or just more movement but it was hurting.  I reached for the Aleve bottle and took one of the blue bills. I didn’t have time to spend thinking about it. My mother needed me.

One of the guilty pleasures of being surrounded by the beauty of Torch Lake, is that across the street is Traverse Bay! Talk about hitting the jackpot=:)!

On a beautiful night in July, Larry and I brought a bottle of Wine to the bay and relished in the quiet view of the sunset. We talked alot about what our dreams would be moving forward and how lucky we felt to be able to sit on the beach listening to the waves and occassionally fighting off a mosquito here and there. Life is good. I started singing “sitting on the dock of the bay..wasting time…time…time”..Larry laughed since I cannot carry a tune till this day.

Larry’s cell phone began to ring and it was my mother calling from Florida.

“Hello, Mom”! Larry and I are enjoying a spectacular sunset, wish you were here!

“Lorie, my mother whispered..I’m not feeling well. In fact, I feel terrible and I think you should come here”. My mother never complains of anything, so I knew instinctively that this was not good news.

“I’ll see what I can do, we are leaving here tomorrow for home”.

“Good”, my mom said.  “Please get here as soon as you can”.

“I will” I said in a sad voice. Love you Mom, Larry does too”!

Larry and I left the bay and had a sad walk home. Something was terribly wrong. I made reservations to get to Florida the day after tomorrow. I had a bad feeling.

To all of my great family, friends and supporters (from all over the world!) I do so apologize for not writing on this blog for many months.  I have required several surgeries that have been non-related to Breast Cancer and had some personal issues in my life that has taken alot of my time, strength and resources. So, while some issues still remain..I am working my way back to blogging to you all. I am also in the process of writing a book and working on the Cancer trilogy.  I will keep you all posted on that development!  On a sad note, I lost one of my friends to Breast Cancer in late 2010. Talk about a spirit of love! She will be so sorely missed..a true inspiration of hope and goodness.

Okay, so the madness will start soon. Thanks for reaching out to me!

Lorie Brady

I’m a California girl and frequently went to Lake Tahoe for snow skiing, but also went during the summer to laze about the south shore area of Lake Tahoe. The water was magnificent. Crisp, cool and so great to catch some rays and soak up the warming sun. Beautiful Lake Tahoe.

And then my eyes witnessed  Torch Lake, Michigan.

I was recuperating pretty well, got my last HAND grenades out (drains) and we decided to spend two weeks up north at the family cottage.  I had been there previously and fell in love with the serenity and beauty of the water. I think this picture exemplifies this. I still had to have some more pumps into the expanders. They were not physically attractive, in fact I referred to them as footballs. The actual pumping up into the expanders was not entirely a delightful experience either. My plastic surgeon thought I looked wonderful…he is such a joker <!>

I saw my oncologist and we spoke in length about my options. Since the tumor was highly aggressive and the fact I had cancer in both breasts due to the DCIS, she pushed me to consider the chemotherapy regimen because the risk of occurance would be greater. After careful consideration, I decided to forgo any adjuvant therapy. This was a personal decision of mine and I don’t think most people understood it. It didn’t matter to me. I know what cancer treatment is. As a clinician she wanted  to fight it with me, but she understood my reasoning. We hugged. She left me to consider taking Tamoxifen since I was still ovulating. I assured her that I would give it some thought.

(Note: When I returned home, I also declined Tamoxifen because of the reports I was reading. In 2007, I was having abnormal bleeding. I had an issue with a growth on my right ovary, as well as an enlarged uterus. I had a total hysterectomy that summer. Thankfully, no cancer involved!)

My Mom, sister and niece came to see us and we had a wonderful time! I spent some time speaking to my sister about the whole experience. It felt good to be playing Gin Rummy, having a BBque, and laughing. Laughing! They all left after a week. Time to get ready to go uppppa north!

I was so happy to be going to Torch Lake. I wanted to put my tootsies in the water. We heard that our two pals Sue and Rick would be coming to stay with us for a few days. It seemed that life was getting back to normal.

Peace sometimes is elusive. But not there. Peace is Torch Lake, Michigan.

How many times have I heard that throughout my lifetime.  Maybe it is because people do not know what to say..or afraid they may say the wrong thing.  I do believe people mean well.  But, it’s better to say nothing than “But, you don’t look sick”.

Is there a certain way that you must look sick to qualify that statement? Just because my hair hasn’t fallen out yet, or that I look paler than Casper the ghost. 

I’m a cancer patient. I’m going through upheaval in my body mentally as well as physically. It’s that simple.

Do you know one of the greatest things ever I had during this time was “pitted cherries”!

Oh I was miserable alright. Four drains, constant vigilance making sure I was draining enough blood, constant pain where the “footballs” were in my chest, no sleep…

BUT, THOSE cherries!!!  Funny that I remember that so well in the midst of recovery. It’s such a simple thing:-)

No matter how bad I felt, I was diligent about doing the post-mastectomy exercises. Your chest area is not going to want to do them..but trust me I think my rehabilatation was shortened because I dutifully did the physical therapy requirements to get me strong again.  Throw in the nursing care I received from Larry:-)!!

One of the best sites I found on this is:
http://www.stayingabreast.com/site/index.htm

Of course, your physician will have a plan for you after your surgery and/or reconstruction.

I also found a great interactive website called http://www.breastcancer.org. Excellent information for those new to breast cancer. The message boards were filled with breast cancer patients.

While the wedding was off and France would have to wait, I got through the surgery. I had to see Dr. E, my oncologist in one week to make a decision about the Red Devil…

But, for now I was okay. My Mom and sister were planning on  coming up to Detroit to see me in a few weeks. I read a lot of books, did my exercises and talked to lots of people that loved me.

But, what happened to all the cherries? I ate them!

The night before the surgery (May 19th) Larry surprised me with this gournet meal. His cooking skills I would put up against any TOP-chef. How does baked brie in puff pastry with rasberry sauce sound? Grilled Lobster tails with saute vegetables and gnocchi? Oh and for dessert Banana Fosters? I think you get the delicious picture.

I’ll admit it. I am a big wine lover. I did not used to be, but Larry has taught me alot about it since he lived in France for a better part of 2 weeks every year. He turned me on to the subtle taste of grapes that are infused in different vinters. I love French wine, but I also fell in love with a California one. I mentioned it before when I got my diagnosis on the phone, Ferrari Carrano Fume Blanc’. We had a couple of those to share as well.

With a fabulous dinner, great wine and conversation I had no stress about what was to occur the next morning. And morning came fast….

I thought it would be fun to reread what Larry wrote about the days event in his own words AND the panic that sank in with a Tornado Warning!! Footnote: That reference to my chest feeling like it was used for batting practice is so true to this day. Thank god for morphine pumps.

I remember when I was just about to give birth to my son, TJ that I got this urge to get everything in order. I wanted to have extra packages of pampers around, formula, extra blankets. I also made lots of meals and put them in the freezer for a quick dinner. I changed the sheets on beds that had not even been slept in! I think this is what was called “Nesting”.

It started for me again. I am not sure why I felt this way, but I wanted all new linens, new blankets, new towels. I scrubbed our shower with bleach, and then cleaned it again. I cleaned and then waxed my car, even cleaning the spokes on the wheels carefully. I bought bigger tops since I knew that it would be a good 6 weeks until I could wear my normal clothes.

(I recommend any newly diagnosed Breast Cancer patient, that is going to be requiring drains with reconstruction invest in some big button down shirts. I wore some of Larry’s hawaiian shirt during this period. I lived in them for quite awhile even after the FOUR drains came out)

It was an odd time, yet cathartic time. I wasn’t expecting a baby, but I was expecting a change. Something that would alter the course of my life.  I’m not sure where this change was heading. I guess I would know soon enough.

Larry called the Director at the Summit and they were kind enough to cancel our plans (and refund our deposit) for our upcoming wedding in June. We also cancelled the trip to France due to the uncertanity of how I would feel and I still had not made a decision about Adjuvant Therapy since Dr E wanted to wait until the final surgery results were in. It was a tough few weeks..but we really didn’t know what else to do.  The reality of my sickness really hit home during this time. I felt completely defeated.

During all this bad news , I had a birthday coming up and birthdays are a big deal in this house! I was turning 46 years old. Even though I felt like the world was turning my life upside down.

We had a small party with my pal, Sue and her sweet mother, Mary. Larry made this unbelievable dinner of scallops and whitefish. I really enjoyed that dinner. Laughing and conversation that was not centered around Breast Cancer.

I opened a card from Larry. It really was a simple card, but there was something written in it that caught my eye. “Remember, Lorie you promised me 40 more years” and “I need YOU”. It made me smile..maybe I really do have more life to live.

I made a wish and blew out all the candles. Happy Birthday !!

I’m Lucky. I’ve said that before about my medical partners in my life. Really I am. Throughout my lifetime I have had the best of medical care.  From Stanford University Medical Center in Palo Alto, CA to St. Joe’s Hospital in Ann Arbor, MI.  I have had no complaints about top-notch doctors, nurses, technicians, NP’s, PA’s..the list could continue.  It just so happened that I embraced the “team” that was going to help me.

I first met my oncologist a year earlier (2003) when I developed a lump on the front of my neck that seemed unrelated to my previous thyroidectomy. I will call her Dr. E. The minute that she came in to meet me during that visit I knew I would like her.  Very straightforward, but a touch of friendliness. ( I often wondered how Oncologist’s remain upbeat when they have to face so much sickness, terminal at that.) It was also helpful that she came highly recommended by several people.

So, my subsequent visit to her after my breast cancer diagnosis she was somewhat disspointed in herself for not checking me out more fully in 2003. I assured her that it is what it is..obviously mammograms are not fail proof..etc. Dr. E said that I have a very aggressive, although early form of BC and outlined some strategies to consider. Surgery, Chemo then Tamoxifen.  I was not a candidate for radiation therapy (had done mantle radiation for Hodgkin’s Disease) and no clinical trials would be available for me. She strongly suggested AC/Chemo otherwise known as the “Red Devil” ; since she felt that the cancer had components to be lymphovascular (in blood stream-hence greater chance of metastasis) due to my biopsy results and grade of tumor. We went over prognosis, overall benefit of chemotherapy vs None, and Tamoxifen (which I did not want to do). We had a great heart-to-heart about my feelings of cancer treatment. On one hand, yes treatments can prolong life, but on the other they cause a whole host of issues ie.., secondary cancers. It took me back to a time when I was in discussion with my Stanford team. Life, Death.  I had alot to think about after my meeting with her and promised that I would make a decision in a week. We shook hands. I passed a young gal in the waiting room, looking very weak and very sick. Sigh.

Next…Dr. R the Plastic Surgeon.

The great thing about all of my physicians is that they are all in close proximity to one another. I walked to my next appointment! Immediately when you walk in the PS office is that they have a aquarium that takes you to a “happy” place. I was a tad uneasy because it was very busy, with lots of woman sitting around that all looked as though they were getting cosmetic procedures, not a visit to have breasts reconstructed by a nasty breast cancer diagnosis. I had never met this physician before.  But, like before I had heard good things about him and was hopeful that I chose the right one.

The one thing I can describe about Dr. R is FANtastic! I immediately liked him! He made me feel totally at ease and spent lots of time going over some different options. He thought I would be a great candidate for expanders/implants.  The whole process would take 6 months from the surgery to put in the expanders, to the removal/replacement of saline implants. I’m not even sure why we chose the saline implants vs silicone? The expanders are a process where they actually “pump” up the breast with saline…I have put a link here for more information:http://www.healthcentral.com/breast-cancer/reconstruction-39862-5.html.  This of course sounded painful, but I really trusted Dr. R and his willingness to do whatever  felt right with me. I told him that I agreed with him and I wanted him to be my partner in this. Just out of impulse, I hugged him. That’s how confortable he made me feel.

My next visit was to Dr.W the general surgeon who has done lots of breat surgery.  Dr. W is a very serious physician, but quite affable personality. I tend to try to crack jokes and be cheery in times of great stress/seriousness; and I think at times he was doing his best to remain on focus. But, it was okay to me. He had a serious job to do to eradicate the tumor within the breast tissue, along with the DCIS. He had skilled looking hands. Since he was in agreement with the Radiologist to have both breasts removed, I had no option but to have a bi-lateral mastectomy. Dr. R would follow him with the reconstruction.For a nano-second I realized that part of me was going to be gone, forever. Things seem to be moving in hyper speed.  Surgery was scheduled for May 20th. A new life awaits..and how I wanted to hold onto the one I currently had.

Core Biopsy (OUCH!) and the phone call..

A core biopsy of the breast is simply put, excruciating.  It did not matter how much novacaine they shot in “both” of my boobs to numb the needles..I could not help but have water droplets fall from my eyes because of it. Looking back that was even more painful then the mastectomies themselves. I thought I could relive it through words on this blog, but I can’t. Suffice to say it had a negative effect on me.

I have put a link to this barbaric procedure here:

It was about 1 week until I got a phone call at 4:30 PM from the radiologist who had all my results back. Stage II, IDC 2.5 cm tumor left breast with DCIS and DCIS right breast with no clear margins. Grade 3 tumor based on the Bloom-Richardson Staging system. (My total score was 8/9). My heart sank, because I knew that I was in trouble. How did I get cancer in both breasts?? I have been having mammograms “faithfully”.

Larry was out of town for business, but I called him anyways. He hopped in the car and drove 85 MPH to get home. I called my mother in Florida and all she could say is “I’m sorry, do you need me to come up to Michigan”?, she was so choked up with sadness.

I opened my favorite bottle of Fume-Blanc Ferrari Carrano and drank to the newest challenge-Breast Cancer. It will be alright. It has to be.

Mother..buddy..

Courtesy of http://www.altacathers.com

I hope whoever is reading this blog has had a relationship with a mother like I have had. It’s hard to describe in words all the wonderful things she was to me .  I lost my mother in 2006 after watching her die in hospice (and it sure didn’t look like it was a peaceful passing).

For a better part of my adult life I lived about 30 minutes away. Their were many a day I would stop by on my way to work to share a cup of coffee. My son, TJ (who is now 25 years old) couldn’t wait to go see his grandmother and go to McDonald’s, play Gin Rummy (he swears she always cheated!) or she would make his favorite swiss steak. I guess my mother just had this uncanny ability to love everyone. Most especially her grandchildren, even though one lives 5,000 miles away. She just was present, does that make sense?

It was why right after my visit with the Radiation specialist I had to call her and tell her that ” I have Breast Cancer”. Her first words to me were ” I’ll get on the first plane”. Never mind that she was having some serious health problems of her own, she wanted to be with me. I kept it together on the phone, telling her that “I’ve got in under control”. She started to cry. I knew that what happened before, is going to happen again. Another cancer has invaded our lives. “I love you Mom;we will fight like we have before”.

There is not a  moment that I don’t think about her.  She was a monumental influence on me; generous, loveable and simply one of the nicest people you could ever hope to know.

I miss you, Mom. Everyone does.

Self reflection. and prayer.

I got a phone call from a friend wanting to let me know that “She has many people praying for me”.  This friend has a good soul.  While I am not a practicing catholic anymore, I do believe in God.  Only one time in my life that I shouted out at the injustice of God and this was when my little two month old nephew Ryan (my sister Lynn’s son) passed away from SIDS. To me that was a reason to not believe.

What I didn’t know about this friend was she had just buried her sister who had breast cancer 5 years earlier.  She did not share this with me.  I heard via someone else who was letting me know how difficult her own journey had been with seeing her sister face an endless assault of treatments to no avail. But, this friend held on to her belief in God. And now she was praying for me because of that.

It made me feel comforted.

Ultrasound….and Tears

I’m no slouch when it comes to knowing a lot of medical information. It took years of going through medical maladies for me to appreciate how far medicine has come. I also have gained a very profound admiration for the medical community.  I have had some incredible physicians who really do care about me.  Nurses that have sat by my hospital bed just to talk or hold my hand. I’m lucky in many ways.  If I have to have so much wrong with me, at least I know there are some that want to assist me to get well.

I jumped on the internet to do some searching on my own for answers.  I had just had a mammogram not less than 9 months earlier and everything was normal.  How did a lump grow that BIG in that little amount of time? Don’t tumors take years to grow?  Why didn’t I notice it earlier? I mentioned panic in my earlier post.  I didn’t understand why now?

Larry and I got to the Breast Imaging department promptly. It was packed with women. I wasn’t sure if I was to take that as a positive or negative sign. My name was called and back I went for the mammogram.  It seemed to take forever to get all the images done.  Then it was to ultrasound for a better look into the lump. And then off to see the Radiologist.

Uh-Oh. I told Larry I could “smell” radiation again. It brought me back to Stanford when I was going into the Dungeon for my radiation treatments.  Burned flesh.  I got a little queasy. I had a nice nurse walk with Larry /me to the room. Uh-Oh. I know what this means..it’s the cancer room I thought to myself.

The radiologist was professional and to the point. I saw my x-ray images on the screen and my breasts were lit up like christmas trees with what looked like spider webs and a big fat tumor.

“You have Breast Cancer.  You have breast cancer in BOTH of your breasts”. My recommendation is to have a core biopsy and bi-lateral mastectomies”.

Larry grabbed my hand very tightly. I don’t remember saying anything except, “uh huh”.

I felt like someone was playing a bad joke on me. I have already done this all before, I thought.  The tears started to fall briskly down my face.

Visions of the past came back .  Cancer has returned.

Lump..Cancer?

I landed in Michigan after all these years and landed near a really great guy to share my life with. Larry proposed to me on national television on SJR(as a White Knight on a HORSE!!) and I was right in the midst of planning a wedding for June with plans to go to France for 2 weeks for the honeymoon.  I also was recuperating from a terrible surgery called Moh’s that found squamous cell carcinoma on part of my chin/lip and it was terribly disfiguring. So, we both were looking forward to a new chapter in our lives, when what again, Cancer would change everything.

Besides my Moh’s surgery that I was recovering from, I had also been recovering from a nasty case of bronchitis. My sinuses were so clogged up, I decided to take a hot shower in hopes that it would make my breathing better. I do not know if it was my intuition or just my accident but as I was showering I did a breast exam. And there it was. A irregular hard lump in my left breast. I knew immediately that it was breast cancer. I had experienced cystic lumps and this was no cyst.

I called for Larry to come upstairs.

“You have to feel something on my left breast” I said.

“Ok, but what I am feeling for”?

“Well, (cough) I am not sure if I have a hard lump or a cyst. But, I have a pretty good idea what it is”.

Larry felt it and I could see the look of worry glance over his eyes. But, ever the optimist he is, he hugged me and said..

” First things first, call Lisa in the morning (my GP, I am on first name basis with most of my doctors) and have her take a look. We don’t know what it is at this point.”

Larry always the practical and analytical one. It’s why we get along so well..we supplement what the other partner‘s needs are.

“Your right, I said. And that’s what I did in the morning. Called Lisa.

I got in first thing in the morning. Lisa felt the same thing I did. Need mammogram and ultrasound.  Oh and you need some stronger antibiotics for your bronchitis. And, then a sense of panic settles in. Cancer, again?

Ok. I survived Hodgkin’s Disease, Thyroid Cancer, Squamous Cell Carcinoma’s…so I can do this, right? Remember the odd physican here and there telling you that this might be a possibility with all the radiation therapy I had?  To get your mammograms and follow-ups as scheduled?  Eat right, exrecise…blah blah.  Ok. I DID all of that.

Lots of memories flooded my senses. Keep your sense of optimism.  It could be nothing. Or it could be something.

Panic.

What am I going to do about the wedding? I already put the down payment on the reception?

Tomorrow is another day. Let’s get through the mammogram.

I can feel the excitement I had to attend the graduation.  The ceremony was to be outside on the football field.  It was a very nice day, sunny and a light breeze.  Just one small problem.  I am really weak.  Their was some discussion about renting a wheelchair so I would not have to walk up to the podium.  I immediately nixed that idea.  I knew that I could ask of my male buddy friends to help..I’ll call them R & D. I called and they said yes.

My Dad came up to me and hugged me tightly and said

“You are a beautiful, strong young woman Lorie and I am so proud to call you my daughter.” He presented me with the most exquisite Alexanderite ring. “I hope that you realize what an inspiration you have been to me this past year”.  Somehow, in that exact moment everything was okay. He did care. I hugged him back.

Considering the amount of trauma I went through over the course of the year, I actually looked pretty well and managed to get to my seat. I had alot of support and everyone was there to cheer me on.  When my name was called, D & R lifted me up and carried me to the podium.  I was blinded by the applause and the caps that were thrown in the air. It is one of those moments that you will never forget in your lifetime.

When I got home, the phone rang. It was one of my friends calling to tell me congratulations.  I hadn’t talked to her since before my diagnosis, so I assumed she was referring to my graduation. 

I said “Thanks, on to my new chapter in life”!. 

“Yes, she said.  Congratulations on not only graduating, but becoming a cancer survivor”.

Yes, I guess she was right. I had several celebrations. I got my diploma, survived a tough battle with cancer and made peace with my Dad.

Compliments of http://www.clipart.com

Even though I have endured operations (lost count) , treatments, the side effects of this Blind Study of weekly shots made me so sick I wanted to die..I stayed well over  a week in bed. I had every conceivable thing running out of me.  I had pain all over my body. I was hot and then freezing. I lost 12 pounds in a week because  I couldn’t get enough fluid in me to stay hydrated. The docs wanted me to be admitted to the hospital (NO)  However; on day 8 a miraculous thing happened..I actually felt better. My friends gave me a slurpee to drink. It was the best thing I ever drank. My poor mother finally could have a breathe of relief that I was going to make it.

All this because of a pocket of blisters on my neck. I hope I never have to encounter that planet of pain and misery.

I woke up in a horrible sweat the first week of June. I am too familiar with these. Your fever just continually spikes and the shivers come and go. I felt like someone punched me in the stomach. Flu? NOW???

I called Dr. G at Stanford and they wanted to see me immediately.  I was not sure I was physically able to get out of bed, but I lumbered to the car and my mother was driving doing 80 MPH.

Arriving at Stanford, Mr. G had a worried look to his face. He did the preliminary lymph node check and noticed some small fluid like blisters on my right neck. He touched them and I yelped alittle…

“You have herpes zoster or also known as shingles.  They are basically a virus that has become awakened.  This can happen with radiation treatments. We’d like to put you in a blind study and monitor you.  It can make you quite ill. These can be difficult to treat, so I would suggest we act quickly”.

Oh great. What choice do I have? They can spread and make you miserable. So, let’s do it. Let’s start the shots. I want to go to my graduation!

Getting better…looking forward to my graduation!

My birthday was so much fun.  Even though I was still not feeling like myself, I knew I had alot to look forward too. The “grapefuit” was gone! No more dungeon visits! No more needles! I was looking forward to going to my graduation and getting a fantastic prom dress!

I also want to add that my Dad gave me a big hug and said how proud he was of me to had gone through a year of “hell”. I got the same feeling that someone else gets when they won the lottery. I had such a smile and a heart full of joy. Maybe we were connecting after all.

Some of you may be wondering if I had Lymphoma, and the website’s name is about Breast Cancer…what gives?

Remember, there is a connection to these two. It’s true that there was a lapse of time…but it’s coming.

Thanks for staying tuned..

Blood tests…x-rays…and some good news.

I was approaching my last two weeks of treatments.  My burn marks were better, my throat wasn’t hurting that much and my stomach was actually looking forward to my mother’s rice krispie chicken and brown rice.  Even the sunshine in April was giving back some color to my skinny cheeks.  I was not much of a makeup gal, but I remember buying some mascara that had blue tinge to it.

I saw my doctors on a regular basis for checkups.  My blood counts were low for white blood cells and platelets.  But they were not bad.  My chest x-ray showed no grapefruit! Things were looking very good.  The fatigue was still a problem, but I had started to swim in our pool to get some exercise in.

I had a birthday coming up. I was going to blow out 18 candles on my birthday cake.  I made it. And I was going to celebrate…for days:-) April 27, 1977.

So….

I get to my scheduled appointment early.  I see a new patient sitting in the waiting room and she is quite impatient. 

Mr. Surly appears and  harrumphs ” Ms. S..are you here”?

“Yes”, she replies.

  Mr. S says” Why aren’t you ready for treatment”?

Ms. S says ” I didn’t know……that, uh, um”

“Never mind” says Mr. Surly “follow me.”

Little did I know that sometime later Mr. Surly got a talking too because of his nasty attitude to Mrs. S., who happened to know someone important upper management of the hospital. It was a small victory for me.  And oddly enough I do not remember ever seeing him again. 

Whispering words…can I have a nap?

Even in light of cancer, you still find moments of fun.  I had youth on my side to handle the worse of situation alot easier than when I got older. So yes I still had some crazy filled adventures with friends and family alike.   We’d get together and played a game called Liar’s Dice. We would cruise over to Big Boy’s. You have to have some normalcy in life.

Age has a way of not remembering the things that we did, but I can almost guarantee you I was not as immersed in knowing cancer as I do now. The one painful reminder though of that was my inability to talk for a few weeks.  Pain threshold increased with a increasing sore throat. Part of the radiation treatment obviously…but I loved to sing (even though I could not carry a tune) and I was way too social not to talk. The fatigue reared it’s head as well.

Naps were not uncommon.  Hair was still falling out. New burn marks appeared.  The burning agonizing pain in my throat brought numerous tears to my eyes.

Only…6 more weeks…

Hair…Going..Going..Gone

Compliments of http://www.wallpapercavern.com

Back in the 1970′s every girl that I can remember had long hair, with a middle part.  Boys had long hair too.  Maybe it was a left over of the 60′s? 

I was really lucky in that department.  Both my parents had hair..unbeleivable amounts of hair.  I was nicknamed later on in life the “Lioness” by my sweetheart Larry. I had blonde hair, strewn in with specks of super blonde thanks to my girlfriends and I spraying “Sun-In” in our hair in 1976.  (can still remember that wierd smell it had). 

I still was feeling the effects of well into 5 weeks of radiation treatments when I felt something fall in front of my face.  I looked down at my lap.  Hair.  Long strand of hair. I ran my hand in the back of my head. Oh No. A big clump fell out. And then a small trickle of water fell out of my eye. Then another. And soon I was in hysteria.

I looked in the mirror.  I looked sick.  I had black circles under my eyes.  My California glow was now ashy looking. I had burn marks all over my skin where the mantle radiation was killing the tumor. And my stomach was still not cooperating. 

Kevin said it didn’t matter.  My friends said I looked great.  My Mom took me out shopping for some new clothes.  But my signature hair was gone. And  I had to get back to  Stanford for my next set of treatment. I remember thinking life just isn’t fair.

Pot…Weed and my best friend Mary Jane..

No one would believe me if I told them that my first foray into smoking weed would be by the benefactor of my mother.  My sister informed me the other night that she also was asked to “get your sister some pot” by my father! I do not remember that at all from my memory. But I can relate the story about my mother.

The nausea was getting pretty unbearable.  It reminds me (today ) of when you have morning sickness when pregnant.  The saltines, and stale coca-cola was all I had during this time and I was getting sick of salt and sugar.

California as you know was already progressive in the recreational use of marijuana. Everyone smoked it..even back in the 1970′s. It wasn’t a big deal because it was everywhere.

One of the physicians I had in my care really sympathized with my plight.  My mother explained to him that she didn’t know what else to do. The mix of anti-nausea pills was doing nothing. With a look of care he said “Cancer patients seem to have great success with marijuana and nausea”. That’s all I remember him saying.  But it certainly put an idea in my head.  And my mother’s.

We were driving home from Palo Alto and it was quiet in the car.  I asked my mom what she thought about getting me some weed. 

 ”Lorie, I would not have the vaguest idea of how to go about it’!

Well, I knew.  I had a friend of a friend..Who knew a friend who could get me some.  “How about I ask someone I know if they could help”? I could tell my mom was very uncomfortable with the idea of her having me smoke dope.  “It might really help me, Mom.  The nausea is horrible”.

“Go ahead, Lorie”. 

The next morning I made the pot call. I didn’t know that a bag or an ounce was called a lid.  I should expect a bag later in the evening.  As I said, marijuana was all over the place. 

I walked out to the backyard where my mom was reading by the pool and said “Mom, I will be getting the LID sometime tonight “. 

“Okay she said…but, wait..why are you getting a TOILET LID”??  I cracked up so hard I thought I was going to spit up my stale coca-cola.

So I got the lid. I smoked some dope. And I never had to look at a coca-cola or saltine again. GOD Bless mother’s!

Nausea..stale Coca-Cola and zesta crackers.

Woke up in a gnarly feeling in my stomach.  Felt like throwing up, but nothing came up except alittle bit of water. So, this is what it feels like to be “sick”.  Up until this point the treatments were pretty easy to deal with. But that odd feeling of nausea. Ugh.

I guess I should of mentioned that I did not miss very much school.  It was my senior year in high school and obviously it was  important to do well.  I had not made any plans to continue to college, except I completed an Economics course at Foothill College the previous summer.  I had no idea what I wanted to do.  No clue. I had some understanding teachers during this period of time.   Even some of the teachers that did not like me very much, ended up becoming friends of mine.  (Thank you Mr. Browne). 

I did have a great boyfriend during this time as well.  I will say his name was Kevin. He came from a wonderfully tight knit family. Everyone knew them.  Kevin and I were not a perfect match by any stretch.  But, he really helped me through a difficult part of my life and he was a great kisser!

The side effects that all the medical folks were telling me were starting to make an ugly appearance. I started to feel like a cancer patient…and it would soon get worse.  Stale Coca-Cola, Zesta saltines were becoming my best friends.

Both very different, but equally fun.

I have two older sisters, biologically.  I have another sister in my life even though we are not biologically related.

While my relationships with my sisters has had some struggles, I have also had some very  fun, crazy memories.  They both have some delightfully funny laughter, and beautiful smiles.  One is very social, one is a tad more reserved in thought.  I think I am a mix of both. I think they both have beautiful things about their souls.  I don’t always agree with their thoughts, nor do they always agree with mine.  We have lively discussions about everything. Even with our disagreements over my perceptions of family.  Most notably, our father.

The “adopted” sister is a sister to my partner.  I think she is just an old soul in life. She’s quite pretty too.  She has this alabaster skin.  She’s a genius. She didn’t like me very much a few years ago.  And now she comes to me for counsel. We bonded like sisters do.

I just was thinking about how lucky I am to type that word.  Sisters.  They are here to share in joys and  when the shit hits the fan.  Thanks for helping out me a few times.  Thanks for being different.  And thanks for agreeing with whatever decision I ultimately make.  Even when the shit hits the fan.

The Radiation Dungeon!!

Courtesy BBC.co.uk

All ready for the the “Dungeon”

First I have to make a comment.  From 1975 to the present 2010 the hospital garb is still a big bone of contention with me.  I just don’t get it.  They are still poorly designed and so complicated to wear.  Seriously why hasn’t a designer taken this challenge on? If you want any advice and/or tips feel free to contact me!

I had no idea what I was about to expect with a visit to the Radiation Oncologist departments to start my daily/weekly treatments.  I can tell you even to this day I can “smell” a radiation treatment area before I get there.  It reminds me of an elevator, but with a burning smell.  I had cut my hair shoulder length in anticipation knowing that I would be losing it.  I put my pink Bonne Bell chap stick on.  I was ready.

Nothing prepared me for the technicians that were brusque and surly. I cannot remember the technician’s name, but I can remember his attitude. I was aware enough that he really didn’t want to be at his job, but I was too intimidated to say anything.  I felt alone. I felt exposed.  And, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

The Dungeon as I so aptly named it was frightening.  Imagine sitting in a bank vault, with what looked like a long pistol aiming at your breast/chest area.  It made a long, droning sound.  NOONE was in the Dungeon except me.  I do remember singing songs in my head and hoping that it was over-quickly!

And, sure enough it was.  The Dungeon door was opened and in walked Mr. Surly. “Make sure your here same time tomorrow and don’t be late”.  I left the Dungeon so quickly to get my clothes back on and got out of that smelly burning elevator. I did not say one word to him.

I got my revenge later on with Mr. Surly…but I still had to do what I had to do. I had to once again walk right into that Dungeon….

The phone calls…the cards…the outpouring of love.

I’ve been sick enough in my last 50+ years that nothing, I mean nothing brings people together than when you receive a diagnosis of cancer.  Either people over compensate to help or they simply fade away.  It’s happened to me on more than one occassion.

In high school I had a army of friends who surrounded my hospital bed, who wrote me notes of encouragement. My best friend Niki sneaking in a Big Mac at the hospital because I was craving one, even though I vomited the entire meal on her lap. (I’m sure you readers could of done without that visual) Then there were mysterious folks who put me on the prayer list. Made donations to charities.  It was mind blowing to this young 17 year old.

And then there were a few that perhaps if they got too close the cancer may rub off on them. That I am not going to be able to do “fun’ things anymore because I’ll feel too sick or worse, look like I am sick. I learned alot about human nature during this period. 

I never faulted anyone for lack of anything. I was still very untainted in many ways. I still really had not fully conceptualized that I could die. I was in this aura that people really do love me..care about me.  The outpouring of love was heartwarming.  The phone calls didn’t stop until I couldn’t talk.

The Big Day….

There are two things that I remember on this surgery day. Throwing up alot. But I also remember the “best” part of this day.

MY Sister Lynn flew home from Alaska! My parents did not tell me so that I would be surprised to see her.  Was I ever. She brought me the most beautiful knit bird that I still have today, 44 years later.

Well, they got the grapefruit. And I got a bird and my sister. Life could not get better than that.

The Doctor’s Visit and my Dad didn’t show up.

 Stanford University Medical Center in Palo Alto, CA is an amazing place.  I had never been there before until I found out that I was actually born there. I found that out when my Mom and I were in the offices of Dr. G to discuss my case.  We were waiting for my Dad to show up.  The clock was ticking.  A medical secretary knocked lightly on the door and asked for my mother that a Mr. B was calling her.  I already knew what it was about. My Dad would be a no-show. Typical.

How serious can a 17 year old be about illness? I don’t remember being the least bit scared, anxious.  I am quite sure I glanced over “malignant” cancerous, grapefruit sized tumor laying inside my chest.  Hodgkins Disease. Sick. Tests. Surgery.

Note: Hodgkin’s Disease is a malignant disease of the lymphatic system that is characterized by painless enlargement of lymph nodes, the spleen, or other lymphatic tissue. It is sometimes accompanied by symptoms such as fever, weight loss, fatigue and night sweats.

 Options? I could go on a clinical study that would include chemotherapy, radiation, surgery.  I could have surgery followed by radiation to my chest and would include the stomach/pelvis and entire backside.  (Also knows as mantle radiation). I think my Mom opted for the latter.  For some unknown reason to me then (or now) my mother had some infinite wisdom that going through chemotherapy route would not of been the road to choose. I would of been at the hands of a clinical study and you really have no options as a patient at that point.

The good news? Stanford was the place to be for Lymphoma patients.  Pretty darn convenient for me, since I only lived about 20 minutes away for the facility. And, it was a “good” cancer to get. The cure rate (and I use that word very cautiously) was high.  My mom grabbed my hand and said “We will choose surgery and radiation. The less trauma to her, the better”.  God how I miss her. (My Mom died in 2005-more on her later)

 My Dad was a born and raised New Yorker who worked (literally) like a dog at a very young age.  He came from an Irish family who immigrated to the states looking for a better way of life.  He was one of NINE children, and learned the value of hard work when he had to help out the family when his own father died at a young age. Devilishly handsome and smart; my Dad was a self-made man in every sense. He met my mother at a soda shop and offered to buy her a cheeseburger.  Well, she didn’t so much like the cheeseburger, but she fell in love with my father.  My mother always had good instincts and she knew that this was the one.

 My parents had three girls, I being the youngest.  My dad did exceptionally well in his career.  He was offered a presidency position early in his career (with no college degree), but he loved living in California and this promotion would mean to relocate. My sisters and I had amazing Christmases with a 12 foot tall douglas fir would take over the living room with all these amazing bulbs and ornaments.  We had a smaller version of an olympic pool in the backyard, with a cabana with an outside shower and changing rooms. When my sister’s left the home for college, I had the house all to myself. I didn’t realize it at the time, but things were brewing under the surface…

My Dad not showing up was a casualty called Bruno’s. It was a tavern near his workplace that he would frequent on his way home from work. There were times when my mother or sister would have to pick him up because of the temptations of the Irish Whiskey was too appealing. This was one of those days. Looking back it was one of his coping mechanisms, drink to forget.  When I first started this blog, I had alot of anger at some things that my Dad did as I was growing up. But, as I am getting older and (hopefully) wiser I have made some peace on some things in my life.

  Well, the plan was set.  First a whole slew of medical tests, surgery and then 13 weeks of radiation.  It actually was pretty cool to be fussed and fawned over in an otherwise scary day.  I had no idea what the future held, but I knew with the doctors behind me I had one heck of a chance to live.  Besides, my Mom was letting me drive the Orange Datsun pretty exclusively now! And  listening to the Allmann Brothers fabulous “Eat a Peach” album helped.

The Phone Call…

Of all the things I remember growing up in Los Altos, California was my phone number. I have never forgotten it.  This is not to say that I am particularly well versed with numbers.  But  that dang phone number. 

 It was that phone ringing on a cold night Christmas Eve 1975, right above the desk in our families kitchen.

“Hello” ?

“ Ms. B”?

“Yes”, I replied.

“This is Stanford University Medical Center and the results of your biopsy are confirmed for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”

 ”Oh, Okay ” I said. Thanks (why I said thanks is way beyond me) and handed over the Christmas Eve phone call to my parents.

I was 17 years old when I was diagnosed.  I loved my teenage years. Sure it was rebellious, adventurous and fun.  I always wanted to have fun.  Los Altos was a waspy, very well to do area. Kids had there own cars, backyard swimming pools were commonplace. My best friend and I would ski at Heavenly Valley in the winter, suntan TOpless on the south shore of Lake Tahoe. It was an idyllic life in many respects.

So something had to snap, right? Not everything can be perfect without some balance? I would soon find out enough. But not tonight.  Not on Christmas Eve 1975. 

“Hurry Up” I whispered to my parents.  “I’m waiting for a phone call”.