Hey, Shoog!

MONDAY, MAY 30, 2011 9:34 PM, EDT

Hey Shoog!

My friend Paul is going to love this one...I miss you Paul!

Paul and I worked together in the University of Wisconsin's Tumor Ablation Research Lab. We performed surgeries on pigs to collect data for preclinical medical research. Don't judge me...they were pigs. And they saved the lives of many Grannies and Pops. Totally worth it.

At any rate, throughout my time in the research lab, I was fortunate to travel to exotic places like Como, Italy and New Orleans, LA (sooo exotic). I will never forget going back to Wisconsin after our trip to NOLA, and Paul was just in sheer awe that everyone used pet-names to address him...names like Darlin', Hun (2 syllables, mind you), and Shoog (as in short for Sugar). We spoke with thick Southern accents (even mine was strongly exaggerated) for weeks after that trip, and to this day I address Paul as Shoog.

What I didn't know then is something that I learned later in my career: there is a diagnostic modality in Radiology called Positron Emission Tomography (PET). It's kind of like a CT Scan, in that it takes pictures of your body like slices of bread (hence tomography), but that's really the only way they are similar. Where CTs emit radiation, a PET scan requires the patient to be injected with kind of a radioactive sugar. The sugar is used because is goes to sites in the body that metabolize it...cancer cells happen to do this.  The radioactive materials are then used to highlight the areas that are activated by the sugar. In essence, one could draw from this conclusion that sugar activates, or excites cancer cells...and that excitement of cancer cells makes them grow.

You know what's really interesting? I've never really had so much of a sweet-tooth. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like a little Ben and Jerry's Phish Food as much as the next girl, but I don't crave it unless I have PMS. And cookies I have always been able to live without. But over the last year, I have developed an insatiable urge to devour sugar...cookies, cupcakes, icing, Krispy Kremes, real Coca-Cola, and Skittles (ohhhh, Skittles!). And I have to wonder if this is my body's desire to feed the thing that wants to grow. Is that possible that it has a drive of its own? An appetite for destruction? 

So here I set out on a new diet plan...do not feed the cancer. Do not stimulate growth. No more refined sugar, Shoog.

Coping Mechanisms

SUNDAY, MAY 29, 2011 9:12 PM, EDT

Coping Mechanisms

So we all cope in different ways...I have always been an over-sharer - you know, someone who isn't afraid to divulge every last detail, occasionally crossing the boundaries of appropriate conversation (some might call this lacking a filter, but I think that is something else entirely). I guess in some ways it helps me find a way to connect to other people on a personal level. If you can foster a connection with someone even in the most obscure or minute way, you can work with them, befriend them, manage them, or even tolerate them more effectively...it's a twisted kind of empathy.

Over-sharing has its faults...it often reveals one's weaknesses, creating a kind of pure vulnerability. That can also be seen as a strength, albeit an unintended one.  I am generally the first to inform someone of my flaws...something they might not see right off th bat if I hadn't pointed it out...and what happens when someone points out a flaw? It's human nature to recognize it when you see it. So here I am, pointing out my over-sharedness. If you didn't already know it, you're bound to recognize it now.

I also think I am funny. No really, I think I am pretty funny. I am going to be one of those people who always waits for the audience response because I think I am just that funny. Trouble is, that's also my coping mechanism...inappropriate humor. I call it inappropriate because it makes others feel uncomfortable, like I'm not taking the situation seriously. It's really not that...it's just that life in and of itself is generally funny, so why shouldn't I find the funny in it if that makes me feel better?

Remember that scene in Steel Magnolias before Malin gives Shelby a kidney and the family is playing "Go Fish?" Someone says, "Give me all your...internal organs!" And I totally get that humor.

Like suddenly my nickname from the 10th grade (Tit-less Tina Tatum) makes me giggle. And the fact that Bess and Gretchen (the twins, named by my first boyfriend in high school) are likely going to be taking a permanent vacation kind of cracks me up.  Come to think of it, that same boyfriend won Bess (my left breast, and as of right now the healthy one) in a bet once...I think that Nathan should wrap up Bess, return her to that old boyfriend with a thank you note that says "Thanks for the rental...but I've traded her in for a younger model!" 

Pretty much anyone who knows me (thanks to over-sharing) knows that I literally prayed for these boobies. No really, when I was "Tit-less Tina Tatum," I used to pray that God would give me big boobies...specifically two handfuls. Who knew I would have such big hands!? And now here I am, praying for God to take them away. God, please, just take them away...

D-Day

FRIDAY, MAY 27, 2011 4:39 PM, EDT

Diagnosis - D-Day

Today I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. After seeing the ultrasound report and doing a little private investigation on the Internet to see what the report meant, I was not surprised when my OB Dr. Evans called me with the bad news. I told that it was the news I was expecting, and that I was okay...ready to fight. She told me that the Pathologist also said that there was no way that this has been there for 7 years...as long as I live I will never believe that! If that is the case, I have to be the "Breast Cancer Whisperer"...that, or I willed it there, which I refuse to believe.

So where do we go from here? Dr. Evans said that the breast surgeon's office would call me to set up subsequent appointments, and that I could expect chemo to follow after that. She said that there is a new "cool cap" that you can wear during chemo that would prevent hair loss...to that I replied, "Are you kidding? Then I would miss out on the opportunity to wear all of those cute scarves on my head! And I am going to make bald look good!" She agreed that I would have to get some pretty fabulous scarves to match all of my "shoe Nannie" shoes. I laughed, saying "Yeah, when Nathan asks me what he can do, I'm going to tell him the only thing I need from you right now is an Hermes scarf!" Little would he know that I want a $600 scarf to go with my Ferragamo Nannie boots! But we agreed that I am going to have to fight this with style...and so it will be.

My Path report came back with BIG BOLD LETTERS that read, "INVASIVE DUCTAL CARCINOMA WITH LOBULAR FEATURES"..."Single focus of intraductal carcinoma, cribriform type (low nuclear grade)"  I believe that means that my cancer has spread to other tissues, but it is slow growing. I am certainly hoping to find out exactly what that means on Wednesday when I have my surgical consult.