Mara, that is such effing bullshiz what you're dealing with. Has your mom ever read the info sheets on ALL the side effects these drugs and procedures cause? Make her pull them up and read them!! Also the more cycles you're on, the worse it gets. I'm on cycle 9 of Xeloda, and some days I can barely move, let alone scrub a floor or clean a bathroom.

We're all doing the best we can. Rest assured much as you need to.

Lita

My rant. LONG, DEPRESSING, OPTIONAL READ. Please ignore if you choose. I've hit bottom.

I am an emotional BASKETCASE right now. I stayed in Denial for a few weeks, had about ten days of Anger, and now I have fallen into the depths of Depair.

My Dx looked like one of the easiest, most manageable at first. Two small IDC spots close together, detected early. Breast Surgeon said, quick lumpectomy, a few weeks of radiation, and I'm good as gold! I'm able to go about my life a bit shook up, but Denial was keeping me safe. I could joke about it. Given how much more serious other Dx are, I felt embarrassed making any kind of big deal out of it.

Except the BS booked the surgery BEFORE the MRI results came in. New spot, different location, presented differently. Could be different kind of cancer. Cancel surgery the day before (when everything had already been hastily arranged), and schedule MRI-guided biopsy. WHY DID BREAST SURGEON SCHEDULE SURGERY BEFORE ALL THE TESTS WERE IN? That's when everything started going downhill for me.

In the meantime, the only BC support group I've been able to find doesn't have its next MONTHLY meeting until the end of January. I called the Nurse Navigator early this week and told her I needed to talk to someone because I was losing my grip, and she said the Social Worker would call me. Days later, no SW call. I called the NN back, told her I wanted the Psychologist to call me instead of the SW who did NOT call me, VOILA, the SW leaves me a message later that day. I am now in the Anger state- FUCK YOU, SW, I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU, you did NOT CALL ME when asked to. My Anger stage is not cutting anyone any slack. I had to call NN and tell her i DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO SW NOW, I TOLD YOU SO, I WANT TO TALK TO PSYCHOLOGIST. Hope I get a call from a psychologist early next week.

THIS blessed forum has been the only place I have been able to go to rant, as well as gain from the wisdom of others. THANK YOU, folks.

The MRI-guided biopsy was awful. It took three people four+ tries to get an IV in me, and they were RUDE about it- I'm lying on the gurney, weeping- that's the moment when Anger cracked and Despair set it- and no one brought me a goddamn kleenex. I have usually had awesome experiences with nurses, so this was a shock. I was this annoying slab of meat on a gurney whose flesh was not cooperating. As I stared at the dusty ceiling crying, I started to wonder, "Who is this for, really? Is it for me, or am I now a pre-authorized goldmine for the Medical Machine? Are the treatments and drugs I'm being advised to undergo, really for ME, are they going to ruin my quality of life in exchange for a few more years lived in suffering?"

In the MRI machine, I could NOT lower myself fully relaxed (SURE) into position, as the plastic edge was painfully digging into my ribcage. After a few minutes of this irritated direction, someone located a firm piece of foam- which looked like it was MADE for this purpose- and the problem was solved. I guess everyone was pissed that the procedure was delayed because of how long it took for someone to get an IV line in. I felt like I had become a newly discovered Revenue Stream who could be wheeled in and out of expensive tests and procedures and BILLED BILLED BILLED. I kept thinking, "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS." The only kindness I received during the whole procedure was from the biopsy surgeon, bless him, who would lay his hand on my shoulder or back and rub gently a bit to comfort me, and say, "Yes, I know, IT SUCKS."

I'm a single parent who has lived in a state whose climate i hate (WAY too cold), far away from the little family I have left, because of joint custody and a deep desire to give my child an emotional grounding and best possible launch into life. I've lived here 20 years, waiting for the time when MY life could start, and I could move back home. I've worked loooong hours at jobs I've hated so I could scrape up enough to live in this expensive part of the country for the sake being there for my child. Because of demanding work (read: exhaustion) and maintaining a house on my own, I haven't had the time or energy to pursue any kind of relationship. I always thought there would be a time to come when I could enjoy my body again, I was living for a time for ME once my child was out of the nest. I HAVE WASTED TIME WHEN I COULD HAVE GOTTEN SOME ENJOYMENT OUT OF MY BODY. I can't even remember how long it's been since I've had sex- six years? more? Now my body is going to be ruined.

Work was been reasonably understanding of my need to go to appointments and tests, although my work load hasn't diminished one bit, so some nights I stay until 8 pm to catch up. The RAH RAH corporate culture just seems like such utter BULLSHIT when you stand back and look at it in my current context, and it's hard to disguise my contempt for it.

I don't know if I even want to go through with any of this. I feel like I am DONE. My child graduates with an advanced degree this spring- I will have done my job, fulfilled my biological mission to launch my progeny successfully into the world, so I can slough off, not needed any more in the big picture of biological destiny. I don't want the rest of my life to be surgeries, paranoia, drugs that will sap the remaining life out of me, and age me 20 years in six months. I WANT MY ESTROGEN.

I'm not religious. My friends can't understand/can't handle/don't want to hear what I'm feeling today. So I'm just staying planted on the couch, crying, wondering what I'm going to do.

This is one hell of a mid-life crisis.

Carrie.

My rant. LONG, DEPRESSING, OPTIONAL READ. Please ignore if you choose. I've hit bottom.

I am an emotional BASKETCASE right now. I stayed in Denial for a few weeks, had about ten days of Anger, and now I have fallen into the depths of Depair.

My Dx looked like one of the easiest, most manageable at first. Two small IDC spots close together, detected early. Breast Surgeon said, quick lumpectomy, a few weeks of radiation, and I'm good as gold! I'm able to go about my life a bit shook up, but Denial was keeping me safe. I could joke about it. Given how much more serious other Dx are, I felt embarrassed making any kind of big deal out of it.

Except the BS booked the surgery BEFORE the MRI results came in. New spot, different location, presented differently. Could be different kind of cancer. Cancel surgery the day before (when everything had already been hastily arranged), and schedule MRI-guided biopsy. WHY DID BREAST SURGEON SCHEDULE SURGERY BEFORE ALL THE TESTS WERE IN? That's when everything started going downhill for me.

In the meantime, the only BC support group I've been able to find doesn't have it's next MONTHLY meeting until the end of January. I called the Nurse Navigator early this week and told her I needed to talk to someone because I was losing my grip, and she said the Social Worker would call me. Days later, no SW call. I called the NN back, told her I wanted the Psychologist to call me instead of the SW who did NOT call me, VOILA, the SW leaves me a message later that day. I am now in the Anger state- FUCK YOU, SW, I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU, you did NOT CALL ME when asked to. My Anger stage is not cutting anyone any slack. I had to call NN and tell her i DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO SW NOW, I TOLD YOU SO, I WANT TO TALK TO PSYCHOLOGIST. Hope I get a call from a psychologist early next week.

THIS blessed forum has been the only place I have been able to go to rant, as well as gain from the wisdom of others. THANK YOU, folks.

The MRI-guided biopsy was awful. It took three people four+ tries to get an IV in me, and they were RUDE about it- I'm lying on the gurney, weeping- that's the moment when Anger cracked and Despair set it- and no one brought me a goddamn kleenex. I have usually had awesome experiences with nurses, so this was a shock. I was this annoying slab of meat on a gurney whose flesh was not cooperating. As I stared at the dusty ceiling crying, I started to wonder, "Who is this for, really? Is it for me, or am I now a pre-authorized goldmine for the Medical Machine? Are the treatments and drugs I'm being advised to undergo, really for ME, are they going to ruin my quality of life in exchange for a few more years lived in suffering?"

In the MRI machine, I could NOT lower myself fully relaxed (SURE) into position, as the plastic edge was painfully digging into my ribcage. After a few minutes of this irritated direction, someone located a firm piece of foam- which looked like it was MADE for this purpose- and the problem was solved. I guess everyone was pissed that the procedure was delayed because of how long it took for someone to get an IV line in. I felt like I had become a newly discovered Revenue Stream who could be wheeled in and out of expensive tests and procedures and BILLED BILLED BILLED. I kept thinking, "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS." The only kindness I received during the whole procedure was from the biopsy surgeon, bless him, who would lay his hand on my shoulder or back and rub gently a bit to comfort me, and say, "Yes, I know, IT SUCKS."

I'm a single parent who has lived in a state whose climate i hate (WAY too cold), far away from the little family I have left, because of joint custody and a deep desire to give my child an emotional grounding and best possible launch into life. I've lived here 20 years, waiting for the time when MY life could start, and I could move back home. I've worked loooong hours at jobs I've hated so I could scrape up enough to live in this expensive part of the country for the sake being there for my child. Because of demanding work (read: exhaustion) and maintaining a house on my own, I haven't had the time or energy to pursue any kind of relationship. I always thought there would be a time to come when I could enjoy my body again, I was living for a time for ME once my child was out of the nest. I HAVE WASTED TIME WHEN I COULD HAVE GOTTEN SOME ENJOYMENT OUT OF MY BODY. I can't even remember how long it's been since I've had sex- six years? more? Now my body is going to be ruined.

Work was been reasonably understanding of my need to go to appointments and tests, although my work load hasn't diminished one bit, so some nights I stay until 8 pm to catch up. The RAH RAH corporate culture just seems like such utter BULLSHIT when you stand back and look at it in my current context, and it's hard to disguise my contempt for it.

I don't know if I even want to go through with any of this. I feel like I am DONE. My child graduates with an advanced degree this spring- I will have done my job, fulfilled my biological mission to launch my progeny successfully into the world, so I can slough off, not needed any more in the big picture of biological destiny. I don't want the rest of my life to be surgeries, paranoia, drugs that will sap the remaining life out of me, and age me 20 years in six months. I WANT MY ESTROGEN.

I'm not religious. My friends can't understand/can't handle/don't want to hear what I'm feeling today. So I'm just staying planted on the couch, crying, wondering what I'm going to do.

The is one hell of a mid-life crisis.

Carrie.

Fotheringay and Perdly: Just let it all out here. This is what we're here for.

One of the things I emphasize is that it doesn't matter if you're St I or St IV. Cancer is CANCER! It's still a shit deal if you only have tumors extracted or if you're facing the death sentence that is St IV metastatic cancer. Everyone's situation is different. Everything has to be factored in...ass hole bosses, f'ing ex-husbands, undesirable living situations, insensitive family members, etc. Whether you have St I or St IV, you will go thru a plethora of emotions, and that's just how it is.

No one gets off scot-free...ever.

I'm sorry you can't find support where you need it. Shetland makes some good points. I don't give personal advice on this thread unless it is specifically asked for. I try to keep it general. We are not here to judge each other, and we're not shrinks, either. We're just here to offer a compassionate 'virtual' ear for you to voice your frustrations and misery.

Anxiety about recurrence is no joke. It DOES happen, and all you can do is take one day at a time...sometimes one HOUR at a time. One of the hardest things about BC (or any cancer, for that matter), is the isolation one feels. There is NO ONE who can understand exactly what you're going thru in YOUR body and in YOUR mind. And it's not as easy as popping an Ativan or Xanax either. When the drug wears off, the feelings are still there. Each woman has to work thru them in her way and in her own time.

Try to find some solace in knowing that things WILL get better for you. You are both St I, so you should have many more years ahead. Another thing that a cancer Dx does is make you take a good, long look at your life as it currently stands. It's a wake up call. You've been given a second chance. Leave that crappy job; move somewhere else; take a trip; make an effort to bring more people into your life if you can.

As for finding a way to cope a little better, BCO has threads for spiritual people and also for atheists. As I said, everyone has to navigate the waters in their own way. I've gone to both secular support groups and spiritual support groups...I stopped going to one secular group b/c I wasn't getting anything out of it and found the spiritual one had a little more meat in it, even tho it only meets 2X/mo.

December is a crappy time to find groups b/c a lot of them don't meet during the holidays. Feel free to pop in here and rant as often as you need to. You can also PM the ladies here as well. There are a lot of women who've really been to hell and back and they can offer some personal support.

Hoping this helps a little bit,

Lita

Perdly,

Your boss should indeed be crowned (ideally, with a bucket of molten gold a la Game of Thrones) ASSHOLE BOSS OF THE YEAR.

I understand you paranoia about recurrence. Can't say more than that. I just understand the fear.

I haven't had my surgery yet, but I can project that it is something that tales a long time to recover from, physically AND emotionally.

I will be back here, so rant all you want, and people will listen.

Carrie

Perdly, you are NOT the #worstpersonever. You have been through a lot too, and it is very normal to fear recurrence. Take care of yourself. Here is some information on Managing breast cancer fears. Vent here all you need!

Fotheringay, hang tight. We're all here for you, and please keep us posted!

Hugs to all you amazing strong people!

You poor girl, what a cruel irony...I am so sorry. I'm glad you were able to talk to your hubby and SIL about it. Negotiating the emotions surrounding her pregnancy and birth will be tricky, just don't beat yourself up for anything you feel. It is damn hard to celebrate others' joy when the bottom has dropped out of your life and dreams. It isn't petty or mean to feel that way...we aren't saints, just human, and it doesn't make you a bad person. In spite of your pain, I know you will be a great and loving aunt. I wish you all the best with your treatment and healing and don't give up hope. {{HUGS}}

Yesterday the physical therapist said I have one more appointment and then I'm released. This is my second round with PT and I am not the way I was before surgery. The surgeon broke me and I think the medical group should fix me. Now, I'm not talking about the chest wall, I'm talking about full range of motion with my arm. I'm talking about being able to put on and take off clothes without wincing in pain. "Just do your exercises"....well I did that last time you released me and look what happened....I came back 6 months later in more pain. Here's a thought-fix it! Then release me!

I am so sorry, April. What a terrible loss. My heartfelt condolences to you and her grieving family.

April....condolences. We just never know, do we? Glad I renewed my life ins policy. It went up a lot this last year cuz the 20 year term was up. I still want to keep it because it has a clause where you can cash out 25% when you're certified in hospice. We'll probably do that. It will help with my final expenses.

Thank you everyone. The autopsy will be today. At first her husband was not really thrilled about having one, but her kids talked him in to it as they have a right to know if it is the rare familial type or more likely the spontaneous type. Also, medical science needs to study this very rare disease as much as they can since only around 350 people per year are diagnosed with this.

Thanks again for your condolences and hugs. As we head into the Christmas season, I will make sure I imprint all the memories I can on my heart.

Lita and Katty, an extra special hug for both of you as I am sure that as Stage IV, your time is very precious to you both. Thank you for consoling ME when you have so much more on your plate. My prayers for a blessed Holiday Season for all. xoxo

Hi Lita

I to have made arrangements tor my remains to got to the medical school  here, both my parents donated their remains to the school

and yes the bodies are treated with the upmost respect.  Here they kept the remains for almost a year then cremate and they have a memorial service each year for the donors and then we had our choice of how we wanted the ashes ...they would return to us or  spread them in the memorial gardens at the school.  I had no idea that I no longer qualified as an organ donor but it does make sense.

Charlene

I read about lady asked about hat, made me smile. I went to bc event this year couldn't do walk as ankles had swollen and my feet were killing me just getting to start of event, so I walked over to shade it was unbelievably hot that day. I wear wigs so no ones knows unless I want them to what's going on with me and frankly for me to pretend I'm fine. Alas I'm sweating feet are size of tree trucks I can't stand felt woozy I'm trying to wait for people to get gone but they keep coming just ignoring me which was all good, but I'm dying so I just said f*** it and took my hair off so could wipe off sweat 💦. I all of a sudden start getting looks of pity and people stopping to ask if I'm ok. Things I don't normally have to answer and this reporter wants me to tell him how this event has affected bc. I can't talk for lump welling up in my pit and eyes so I shoe him away. I realize at that moment I hide to protect myself. You brave souls who walk with your truth amaze me and if I ever stare too long I am so sorry, but I am proud of you.

Pam

I wish I could "like" posts here the same way we can on Facebook. Thanks Pam...thanks Lita...just love the authentic words, feelings, and thoughts that are shared here. ((Hugs))

Oh, Meow....I feel so bad for you.

Your dad gets the "One of the Shittiest Fathers of All Time" award. He blamed YOU for not supporting HIM? What the bleep!!

Maybe paying for college "was not in the divorce agreement," but he's your DAD for criminy sakes, and he should have at least helped out (i.e. "supported" you) a little in that regard. Then he bald faced LIED to you about not being able to travel all these years. Heck no, I wouldn't go to Cabo either. He'd probably expect you to pay your own way to boot.

Yes, parents can definitely be selfish. After a certain age, they start to act like babies. You don't need that when you're battling cancer.

I'm with you...just do your own thing this Christmas and don't even think about them. They don't deserve it, and you don't need the stress/aggravation.

We're here to support you.

L