When you were diagnosed...

K I agree with Proud--sounds like they are really taking care of u. Good

and proud my statistics are aromatherapy---and who can prove us wrong. LOL

it is Bi I think and you can ask doc all you want, I like to get them to send me a copy as my brain is foggy some days and I like to keep a paper trail

your BS will explain it to you or she should, but I do have memory issues so that is why the paper trail

FernMF, 

I had T/C 4 rounds, one every 3 weeks.  Fatigue was my worst symptom with that chemo.  Fingernails did some weird things but never fell off.   Had to have Neupogen shots every time and they were pretty awful.  Made me have back spasms that were quite painful....until the onc sent me Darvocets...lol....then all was OK.  Not much nausea but had good meds for that too.  Skin was awesome....very clear and soft.

I started losing my hair around day 13 and finally buzzed it until my head started hurting from the hair falling out and then I had hubby shave me down to the skin.  Actually very freeing!  Anyway, I blogged the whole time and you can read stuff I went through during chemo here  http://wrsmith.blogspot.com/ - go back to beginning (2007) for chemo stuff.

I wish you luck.  T/C isn't as bad as the red devil and is very doable.  I pray it will be over soon and you will be on the other side celebrating putting the beast behind you!  Namaste'. 

So happy for your good news:-)

not much better than a good test! celebrate!

have you had your spa treatments yet?  be happy to send my pal Chuck to give you a facial!

huh, I remember hearing that martha stewart has a facial every month.

have you seen her complexion?  mano she was in jail back a while back!  So dear Chuck is so nice to do my facial when ever I have a bad test coming up or when I can afford some pampering!  Now he asks me...why and what is with you this time?  Sweetie pie that he is! So year, magic chuck is anyone that can get me calm and BP down a bit!

camil, no offense and I understand the teasing but I like to use these things to keep me cool.

it almost....almost makes me look forward to dumb testing. Do think you should try to take Marilyn up on her offer of a salon day!  I do this stuff at the spa at my gym, and the cost is very reasonable so it has become my little treat. 

Camille, we are cool~and you are not insulting, your stats indicate you have been through way more than me and you are still here

actually I am trying to work a plan for me to retire next year and take on a less stressful job.  I have to keep working for the insurance now

I started to do some research on the lymphadema massage (got it slightly) training as around my area, it is rather in demand and not many places with well trained LANA massage folks

I need to try to keep working and

Cam...yeah, I think about changing jobs but not easy to do and scary as can not afford to loose insurance so just hang on to a job that pays me less each year

retirement for me is 18 months from now so hoping health and my company both survive that long.

I found my painless, approximately 2cm lump myself, after receiving an "all-clear" mammogram about five months before.  I don't know why I decided to check that night (May 31, 2011 at 9:34 p.m. - like THAT isn't etched into my brain forever!), but I did and... there it was.  I sat bolt upright; felt again; and I knew.  I just knew. 

My mother was just finishing up five years of Arimidex following her mastectomy and we share the same GP.  I'd read that you should wait a month and see if the lump changes with your cycle, but I made an appointment to see him as soon as I could.  I was, already, booked in for an annual physical in a week, but I asked his nurse to bump me into the first available cancellation.  My GP examined the lump; pronounced it "... soft and mobile...", but, also, said, "... let's not risk it ..."  I went from that appointment directly to the lab (I hadn't been able to eat, so was able to have bloodwork right away) for a complete blood panel, CEA and tumor marker tests.  Everything came back normal/negative.  The next day I had a diagnostic mammogram, which came back "inconclusive".  Five days later I had an ultrasound, which came back "highly suspicious solid, lobulated mass" in my left breast and "clinically negative" axillary lymph nodes.  A week after that, I had a core needle biopsy, which came back positive for IDC.

My surgeon was astounded that I had found the lump - he said that it was "... very subtle..." - and he assured me that, given what he was seeing of my results, that this was early-stage and very treatable.  He was unsure of my exact staging, saying that I seemed to be on the borderline between late Stage 1 and early Stage 2, but that he would know more after my surgery.  He said that a mastectomy was unnecessary, given that the lump was dominant and there was no evidence of multi-focal disease, widespread DCIS or contralateral disease, but - if I really wanted one for peace-of-mind going forward - then he would do one.  (He, also, said that if he "... got in there..." and didn't like what he saw, he would do a mastectomy anyway.)  I opted for the less invasive surgery, fully confident that - if I needed a mastectomy - he would do what was necessary.

After surgery, my pathology indicated that I had a positive sentinal node (which had been "infected" through tissue spread because of its proximity to the lump), but that my Level 1 axillary nodes were "clear".  The lump was removed with a wide, clear margin and I, also, had no evidence of DCIS or lymphovascular invasion.   My pathology bumped me to a Stage 2.  All further staging tests - bone scan, abdominal ultrasound, chest x-ray, etc. - were "clear".  But that one positive lymph node was problematic. My surgeon said that I may have been recommended for chemotherapy even if I had been node-negative given my age (his reasoning was, I was only 50 years old and the average North American woman lives to be 80 years, so if I was get through the next 30 years disease-free, chemotherapy would provide an added "edge".), I would, probably, be recommended for chemotherapy. He was right; my oncology team agreed that it was the size of my tumor - a little over 2cm - that was the deciding factor not my lymph node status. Apparently, research has shown that - once that tumour goes over 2cm in size - it begins "shedding" cancer cells. Just because those cells don't appear in your lymph nodes or in your blood, doesn't mean that they are not, possibly, "out there" somewhere. So... chemotherapy it was. Didn't want it, but didn't feel that I should risk turning it down.

My diagnosis was July 8, 2011, so I'm one year out now. Treatment is behind me; my hair has grown back; I'm not having any significant problems with tamoxifen; I'm cycling 20+ miles a week; and I'm back-to-work.  Every so often the cancer-demon torments my dreams or whispers evil things in my ear, but it's getting weaker. I refuse to listen to it. My "residual risk" of relapse is, as my MO says, "minimal" (about 12-14%) and I have to trust that I will fall into the majority of women with my diagnosis/treatment who will do just fine.  Obsessing about that number won't change what has happened, nor will it influence what will happen in the future.  Although I was always disgustingly healthy - didn't smoke, didn't drink (much), kept my weight down, kept active, and ate a healthy, predominantly plant-food diet - I was still able to "tweek" a few things in my life to remain as healthy as possible going forward.  But I think of that less as a means to avoid recurrence and more of a means to live a longer, healthier life period.

I refuse to be a cancer "victim".  I would, even, reject the term "cancer survivor", at least where I am concerned.  I am still me.  I just happen to have had the misfortune to have cancer.  Nobody thinks of someone who has had a heart attack as a "heart attack survivor" or someone with diabetes as a "diabetes survivor".  I refuse to think of myself as something "apart", "different", or "special" because of my cancer.  It just was!   And then, thankfully, it wasn't. 

 And I'm still here.

Hi- everyone thought it was cancer right away.  I was put through testing lightening fast all in one day they put me in front of everyone even though i had no appointments. I was told it was cancer that day.

My GYN said it could be a caffeine cyst (my mom gets them) but said only tests could determine what was found on my scans...

Radiologist said she was 'very concerned'.  Between the look on her face and the image I saw on the US screen...I knew what was coming.