Sunday, August 30, 2009

Cancer's impact

Cancer doesn't define me, but it colors my life. That was my predominate thought a few days ago as I prepared for an interview with a writer for a local magazine.

The magazine is doing a story about local women executives who have had breast cancer, and I was thrilled when asked to be one of the subjects. As I tried to anticipate the interviewer's questions, I kept coming back to that bottom line: cancer is not who I am, but it is a big part of who I have become.

I have accomplished a lot and enjoyed many beautiful times since my first cancer diagnosis in 1996. I will never know for sure if having survived cancer was a propelling force that pushed me further than I would have traveled otherwise, but I suspect it has been a great motivator. I do know that I have a deeper appreciation for what is good and fulfilling than if I had not battled cancer; especially having been through this exercise twice!

It is true, I told the writer: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. In fact, I have felt much healthier in my post-cancer life than before. Good health has been more of a quest; I have worked harder to achieve wellness and to enjoy it than I ever did before my first cancer diagnosis.

It will be interesting in a few months to read about the other women in the article. I anticipate more similarities than differences in our stories. Cancer is the club no one asks to join, but once you're in, the bonds with others are strong.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Advancing nicely

This past week was a wonderful milepost that, at times, I wasn't sure I would reach. It was the annual retreat of the OHA Board, and last year's retreat was one of the last big events I enjoyed before discovering my Cancer 2.0.

The retreat is a busy combination of meetings, golf and business socializing in a beautiful setting away from home. Last year I started the days with 6 a.m. workouts in the hotel gym with one of our Board members and kept going through late-night group dinners. Throughout my treatment of the past year, the retreat was a target I was working to reach. My goal was to not only get there but engage in all the activities I enjoyed before, especially the golf!

So, even though waking up at 5:30 to be in the gym by 6 a.m. was tough in the resort setting, it felt great to be following that same action-packed routine. The biggest difference I encountered was a surprise, but I view it as a positive sign of my healthier lifestyle today. After two days of late-night dining with richer food and heavier lunches, I felt awful. My body was accustomed to healthier, more nutritious eating and did not like the change. It was a good reminder that how we fuel our bodies is important.

Years ago OHA had a Board chair who objected to calling this annual event a "retreat" because he didn't like the idea of falling back. During his term, we called it the Advance. This year, the retreat certainly was an advance for me!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

The mystery continues

I love a great mystery, and none may be as intriguing as the one that has my doctors scratching their heads right now.

It is not a "whodunit" but a "what-is-it?" that is sending the physicians into new consultations with each other. The current conundrum deepened this week when I went in for what was supposed to be a CT-guided needle biopsy and the doctor assigned to that task raised doubts about the tiny little liver spot he was supposed to examine.

A follow-up MRI was performed Thursday, and the report I received Friday said the area they were examining -- identified as a "target-shaped lesion" -- was "only faintly visualized on the current study." It still doesn't mean there is nothing there, but this outcome is more positive than if they had been able to confirm a troublesome spot in the MRI.

I have been mentally sending my cancer-fighting cells to my liver several times a day with orders to seek out and destroy any cancer cells they find there. And I know lots of good prayers have been offered up for my health, including my sister's special pleas for "pick-axing angels" to attack any cancer cells that threaten to linger in my body.

Another test -- this time a PET scan -- will be done in a month to see if it turns up anything more definitive in my liver or elsewhere in my abdomen. By then, I figure all these prayers and positive visualizations for my health will have had time to wipe my liver clean! Here's hoping the mid-September PET scan will put a happy ending on this mystery.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Needless needle?

Yesterday was supposed to be the day for a needle biopsy of a spot on my liver that was labeled suspicious in my latest CT scan. Instead, the doctor who was going to do the biopsy had doubts about whether the biopsy was needed and opted for more testing.

Tom and I wondered what was taking so long for the CT-guided needle biopsy after we arrived at the hospital and I was prepped for the procedure. When things finally got underway, I was taken for an ultrasound instead of a CT scan. The technician explained the doctor wanted to see if the spot was visible in the ultrasound, which might be used to guide his needle instead of the scanner. A short while later, she ushered in the doctor and they noted the spot was not showing up on the ultrasound.

That didn't mean definitively that the spot was no longer there, the doctor explained, but it opened up the possibility that whatever had been detected on the earlier scan might not be a problem. The doctor explained that the spot was very close to my heart, so it would be tricky to biopsy and must be done very carefully. He wanted to be sure a biopsy is really needed before poking around in that area.

Next up will be an MRI to take a better look. Then if a biopsy is still needed, it will likely be done with the doctor inserting a tiny camera to look at the area.

Yesterday's outcome was not full vindication for the suspicious spot, but it felt like prayers for a good outcome have been heard.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Good medicine

I think I have discovered a new treatment for high blood pressure -- holding your grandchild.

High blood pressure has never been one of my problems, but if it were, the contentment that flows from cuddling a grandbaby would surely drop the readings to optimum levels. It is a feeling like no other -- relaxation, wonder, love and appreciation all rolled into euphoric bliss.

Tom and I were fortunate to get our Dodge fix three out of the last four days. We're trying to see him as much as we can before his paternal grandfather and step-grandmother arrive for a visit this weekend, when we'll have to fade back for a while and let them get their fill of him.

Holding your grandchild must be good medicine for anything that ails you. I know snuggling this little grandson of mine makes me feel amazingly well and determined to stay that way.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Suspicious

Why is it that the word "suspicious" is almost always used in a foreboding sense? We even call bad guys "suspects" before it is proven they have done anything wrong. Is it because we tend to expect the bad instead of the good?

I am keeping a positive outlook on my continuing recovery from Cancer 2.0, but that word -- suspicious -- was the lone raincloud in an otherwise sunny report yesterday from my latest CT scan on Thursday. There is a suspicious new spot on my liver that will get a closer look in a few days with a CT-guided needle biopsy.

On the upside, the doctors had been watching a small shadow on one lung that showed up in my previous CT scan in May. It was not even enough to be labeled suspicious then and there was no sign of it in this latest report, so that was good news.

For now, I am concentrating on suspecting another good outcome when they look closer at my liver. Mentally, I am rounding up the cancer-fighting cells in my body and dispatching them to my liver to seek out and kill any suspects they may find there; it is take-no-prisoners time.