I sat in Level Lab 2 at Westwood Cancer Center, otherwise known as "The Clinic" awaiting to have blood drawn for my routine lab work. What makes this particular waiting room different from others is that 90 percent of these people have cancer, or waiting to be told they have cancer. Women and men with brave smiles conversing with their loved ones just to pass the time. You know that smile I'm talking about. The smile that says, "Yes I'm okay on the outside, but on the inside I'm full of fear, anger, elation, and a whole lot of other emotions that have yet to be assigned a name."
I had my three month check-up last week and came out with flying colors! You would have thought I would have been ecstatic, but I was full of anger and pain. Dr. Mcginness walked in the room and immediately knew something was wrong. As she was commenting on how much she loved my hair and my curls, I was trying to hold back the tears. For so long, I've sucked up the pain, I've sucked up the disappointment, but today I simply couldn't hold it in any longer. My oncologist, Dr. Sharma, told me I would have to wait until next March before I could get my reconstruction surgery.
Not only was I dealing with my self-confidence and my appearance, it was one more year of not having breasts, and being stuck in Kansas and apart from my family. My husband and I have had our share of marital issues and trying to rebuild a broken marriage. I have battled emotional demons that I'm finally getting a handle on, (no it is not bi-polar although I do have bi-polar tendencies) which has affected my marriage and my children and then to pile on the emotional trauma of having cancer it just never seems to end. In that appointment with Dr. M, everything snowballed on me all at once.
God love Dr. M though. She gave me a long hug and told and tried to make me feel better. "Look how far you've come in the last year." She said with a huge smile on her face. "Dr. Sharma is looking at the whole picture. She wants to give your body a chance to recover. You have been through so much with chemo, radiation, surgeries."
I completely understand all of that, but damn it's frustrating. I told my sister tonight that I have absolutely no sex drive. As I mentioned, my husband and I have had marital issues and I get that can also affect your sex drive, but I could really care less about it. I mean, a woman's breasts are a major physical attraction in men. I am so scared that without my breasts, it's just going to feel weird. When Dr. M asks me what's wrong, how was I suppose to explain all of this to her? She spent an hour with me though as I unloaded on her. Fortunately, I was her last appointment of the day.
However, that wasn't the only thing wrong. How fair is it that Federal Blue Cross Blue Shield may potentially deny me coverage because of a pre-existing condition so I am stuck with Medicaid? How fair is that Medicaid says that I can't make over $400/month or I won't be covered? How fair is it that without my Social Security I wouldn't be able to qualify for Medicaid? How fair is it that IF and that's a big IF that even if I did get covered by Federal Blue Cross Blue Shield, my medical expenses would bankrupt my husband and I? Conclusion? My husband and I would have to maintain separate residences so as not defraud Medicaid and we will potentially have to get a divorce to keep our finances separate.
Then, Dr. Sharma wants to put me on a bone medicine to keep the cancer from spreading to my bones. In order to do this though, I have to have my teeth extracted and get dentures which means six weeks of no teeth! Great. How the hell are you suppose to eat with no teeth? Come to find out this medicine she wants me to take isn't in pill form. I have to have it done intravenously. So now I have a whole new set of questions that didn't get answered. Is this chemo? Will I lose my hair? Will it make me sick? How often will I have to go back to Kansas City to get injected? (Mind you, these were questions that hadn't even crossed my mind. My sister came up with these.)
I am smiling a little more. I do have the future to look forward to. I can smile when I tell my kids how much I love them, and I can smile that I passed my three month check-up with flying colors. I can smile that I have a loving family and friends who support me and are there for me when I truly need them. And lastly, I can smile  with certainty that I will one day have my family together and our situation for now may be difficult, but we will get through!

What Now?

For the last year and a half, my life has been comprised of doctor's appointments, scans, biopsies, surgeries, counseling, fighting matches, stress, tears, fear of the unknown, meds (at one time I was on 20 different kinds of drugs,) court dates, seclusion, and so many other emotions I don't think there are words that have been created yet to describe these feelings.

I honestly did not want to do my radiations. The thought that radiation causes cancer and the thought that I could develop a hole in my chest wall or my sternum scared the shit out of me. I was scared of staying at the Hope Lodge in Kansas City, MO, and being away from the closest people in my life. I didn't want to miss out on anything important in my children's life while I would be away for the long, six weeks. Another perspective though is yes, I would be missing out, but at least I'll be able to enjoy more time with them in the long run. 

Much to my surprise I've enjoyed the time I have spent at the Hope Lodge. People ask me what it's like at the Hope Lodge so this is my chance to share the wonderful experiences.

You wouldn't think that you could become close to people in such a short amount of time, but as many of us say, "We're all here for the same reason," so of course we all share a common bond. Some of these people I feel like I've known for my whole life. Take for example, Larry and Audry. By all appearances they look like they're father and daughter, but as Audry states instead of Larry "robbing the cradle," she's "robbing the grave." Once you sit down with them and get to know them you understand why they work so well together.
In many families, the one you're born into and the one you're adopted into everyone has his or her role. Even when you're put with complete strangers at first.

Nicky and Albert are my next favorite people. Nicky, of course, is the resident "house" mom as I like to call her. She makes sure those of us without caregivers always have food in front of us. I swear with her cooking I've probably gained five pounds since I've been here. Between her and others someone is always putting food in front of me.

Now, we have those patients who love to give away sweets and thanks to Miss June and Cookie, I've gained two pounds from cinnamon rolls. You know the ones I'm talking about. Frosting dripping throughout the roll with extra frosting on top. The great, big ones that probably have 2000 calories and 20-30 grams of fat in just one.

 (Did I mention her nickname is Cookie? I guess that should have been my first clue that she was going to  re-introduce me to the world of  sweets after chemotherapy. Haha)

Miss June frosting those cupcakes for the Texas Hold'em dinner at Hope Lodge. Cookie's daughter raised $3,500 in support of The Hope Lodge. What an awesome person to do that!!

 But let me tell you, they are totally worth the 2-3 pounds gained. Haha. Then, Cookie of course, is posting all of these awesome decadent recipes on her facebook. I mean Reese's Peanut Buttercup frozen pie, come on. I'm trying to lose a few pounds, not put more on by just looking at a picture. I really think you can gain weight by just looking at one of these pictures.

Real Housewives of Beverly Hills vs the Real Midwestern Housewife

Hi. My name is Leslie and I am a reality show junkie. No, really I only watch a couple of reality shows. Well, let's see. American Idol, Survivor, Celebrity Apprentice, and let's not forget Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.Oh, wait there's more. Dance Moms, Bachelor, Bachelorette, Bachelor Pad, and Dancing with the Stars. That's not too many right?
So what do these shows have in common with breast cancer? Not a damn thing, but for an hour or two a night, I forget for a moment that my life sucks occasionally and fantasize that I could one day be on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. NOT, but it's fun fantasizing.

I often wonder what it would be like not to have a financial care in the word. I mean $25,000 for a pair of sunglasses is just a bit ridiculous don't you think? Let's see how selfish we can be. I wonder if Adrienne would have donated that money to charity if maybe her life might have been just a little bit more fulfilling. I'm sure these women do donate to various charities, but why publicize what you purchase for the whole world to bash you. Again, does this have anything really to do with breast cancer?
I suppose the botox and other various plastic surgeries these women go through to impress their husbands or hoity toity socialites may seem worth it. Who wouldn't love being married to a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon? All the free surgeries and botox you could want.
I recently met with my plastic surgeon for reconstruction surgery and excited I will no longer be flat chested. I use to be a double d and the surgeon said she would have no problem giving me a B cup. Okay, I thought, I can live with that. She then went onto say that once those have healed in two months I can go up another size and then she can start niptucking here and there! Woohoooo!!! A flat stomach, liposuction and botox!!
I worry though what they will look like. As my mother-in-law said, "They aren't going to be 'Hollywood' boobs." Haha. I'm okay with that though. What? I'm not going to look like Pamela Anderson?
I may not be a Beverly Hills housewife, more like a mom of four and a midwestern housewife with little insurance and breast cancer. I may not have a lot of monetary wealth, but I have the wealth of love in my life from friends and families and wouldn't trade that for anything.

LOOK GOOD FEEL BETTER!!!

Oh my goodness, who doesn't like FREE make-up? The Look Good Feel Better program is comprised of volunteers who teach you how to make yourself look like and more importantly, feel like a million bucks! I am so fortunate I get to stay at a wonderful place like the Hope Lodge in Kansas City, MO while undergoing radiation treatment, but life can get pretty boring, pretty fast. I decided to google the program and there happened to be a class offered through the American Cancer Society last Monday. I called and registered and was in! YEAH me!
Upon arrival, there was of course an RN and a volunteer from American Cancer Society, but no one else had signed up for the program. I was a little embarrassed, BUT I had one-on-one instruction, which was pretty awesome.

The volunteer handed me my fuscia colored bag and was amazed at what was inside. The RN and volunteer were curious to see what was inside and low and behold they went nuts over what they saw. "Do you have any idea what this costs?" Hope asked. I pulled the DIORE mascara out of the box and she revealed to me how awesome this product is. I guess you can really tell the difference in a mascara, but I don't think I could justify spending $50 on any kind of product. We'll save that for the Housewives of Beverly Hills. Personally, I am a clinique girl, but I was impressed with this product. I always applied mascara in an upward motion, but in this instruction they tell you to use side-ways strokes underneath your lashes. Huh? Would have never thought of that.
I got so excited about the mascara I forgot to mention a couple of steps before that. Clinique has a quality moisturizer that will most definitely make your skin feel refreshed and hydrated, but after a few minutes you can tell the difference in how smooth your skin is as well. She also suggested to put this product in the fridge during the summer-time. It feels so good on a hot day.

Clinique offered another product, all about eyes. If you apply this underneath your eyes it will help with dark circles and puffiness and will also help your concealer and foundation to stay on longer. I never realized this, but if you apply liquid foundation, like Estee Lauder shown below, use a brush. A brush is more beneficial than a sponge because of the bacteria. Learn something every day I suppose.

I won't bore you with all the other techniques I learned, but as you can see there are some pretty awesome products here. I really recommend this program for anyone going through cancer treatments. Even if you've completed your cancer treatments, I would suggest signing up for this class!!





Obviously, I'm not the only who has been diagnosed with breast cancer, and I certainly won't be the last. Everytime I go to an appointment at the Westwood Cancer Center it amazes me all the people awaiting for their appointments in the level lab 2 room. Nearly one half of those patients all have some form of cancer and are just as scared as I am.
My emotions got the better of me yesterday. I'm not sure why I felt the need to cry, but I went into full panic mode during my breakdown. Loneliness and having no control over anything goes along with cancer. Granted, there are the people in our lives that are trying to support us, and be our care givers, but sometimes you just want to be left alone. Sometimes we don't need our caregivers to tell us what we should be eating, how we should be feeling, or how we should generally be taking care of ourselves. We go from being an independent adult, to a child-like state of mind. Instead of empowering us, our whole world is being turned upside down and all we want is normal. Hell, dysfunctional would be better than nothing at all.
I'm about half-way through my radiation treatments and I should be excited. Following the radiation, I'm almost done with another major surgery, and a few nips here and there. It's not that I want to play the "cancer card" for the rest of my life, but for the past two years, cancer has been my only focus.
Now, that I'm nearly done I'm fearful. I'm fearful that my cancer will return as it did with my mom and my sister-in-law. My sister-in-law was finally feeling stronger again, her hair was coming in curly, long, she was playing tennis all the time and her life was generally back on track. Then, in one check-up it all changed. She was back undergoing chemotherapy, and clinical trials to keep her alive. I'm so scared that will happen to me. I'm afraid to live my life normally for fear that in one appointment it could all be taken away from me again.
I know I shouldn't compare myself to others, and I know better than to look at statistics online. However, the statistics for stage IV breast cancer survival rate past five years is less than 31 percent. Granted, my oncologist had me on a research clinical trial for five years, and then had me fill out paperwork for ten years. I am hopeful. My team of doctors are all very positive and impressed at how well I've responded to treatment and treat me as an individual rather than compare me to a bunch of statistics. I just need to figure out how to do that for myself.

Radiation Day 5

I'm on day five of my radiation treatments. Dr. Deere said to me during my appointment that in week two and three will be when I experience skin changes. Let's cross our fingers that, that won't actually happen to me. I have experienced the fatigue and I've gotten dizzy a couple of times.
I check in and there are about 20 people in the waiting area just like me awaiting their treatment. The front desk phone rings, a few minutes later Nikki says, "Go on back Leslie." I grab my coat, coffee, phone, and keys and go through the double doors labeled PATIENTS ONLY. For some reason, I still manage to forget I need to change into a gown and walk right past the women's dressing room. I immediately turn around and go in. Once again, I grab my things and head clear to the back where my tech and nurse are waiting for me. "Good morning Leslie." Now, of course everything is routine even though it's only been five days. The first day, however, was anything but routine.
I tried to talk myself out of radiation for months and as my wound was healing I knew I would no longer be able to avoid it. In fact, my oncologist said to me that I needed to have my radiation completed by my next appointment which was in April. There was no-where else to hide. I couldn't hide behind my scar anymore, or court dates involving my children, or the anger towards Becky and Roger, or my anger at the world.
I approach the table and they tell me to set my things down and lay down. Right away they start positioning me. Now, don't move, we'll move you. They grab a triangular pillow to insert under my knees and then my left arm raises up above my head and rests into two molds; one for my shoulder to rest in and one for my elbow. My right arm is to lay down my side and I am not to move at all. Now, this is when I sneeze, and I get an itch on my nose that won't go away. I tell the tech that my nose itches, and I'll tell you, they are serious about not moving. "Here, I'll itch it for you," she says.
After they've tugged on you and marked on you with a sharpie, and labeled you with stickers, and tell you to move your head a certain way, it's TIME! It's time for this scary machine to zap you with radiated beams. You'd think they would be red beams, but they are green. What's so strange about the beams is that they are on opposite sides of the room. It kind of reminds you of a Lazar show.
Now, for the really scary part. The tech and the nurse place a square, open-shaped box underneath a circular dial, and then another square device underneath that. Then they lower the machine almost to your nose, and she says, "Don't worry, it' won't touch you." The fear at this point isn't whether this machine is going to collapse on top of you, or not, it's just pure fear. You have no idea what to expect, and you have absolutely no control over any of it. You have to trust these medical professionals with your life.

Neither snow, nor ice kept my other sister from having her yearly mammogram the other day. I asked her if she wanted me to go with her considering she had driven to Kansas City countless times with me for my appointments. I knew she was scared. Who wouldn't be? A machine that literally squeezes the begeezes out of your boobs all the while you're suppose to relax and breath.
Technology has come a long way even in the past couple of years. Salina Regional Imaging Center has gone digital which allows radiologists a clearer view of your breast. What use to be a blur on a scan now appears clear as day as you can see veins, tissue, etc. I thought it was pretty cool to see the images instantly on the computer.
Melanie was lucky and won a free scan at Long McArthur's yearly breast cancer awareness ladie's night. I suppose out of all the door prizes available, this may have not been a want, but definitely a need as she doesn't have insurance.
We arrived early enough for her to fill out her personal history. "Are you sexually attracted to," a. men, b. women, c. men and women, or d. neither" When she read these options allowed, I responded, "Are you serious?" Melanie, of course, checks men and then responds, "my husband," which she writes in on the questionnaire. That was our comic relief for the day.
Explaining the painful, awkwardness of a mammogram isn't too difficult to explain to the opposite sex. At least for Melanie it isn't. She has a unique take on it, although it's the best comparison I believe. She told her husband, "Pretend it's your dic*. Yes, the machine can go that low, or maybe they would have you stand on a step stool. Now, imagine a machine squeezing on it, bend toward the machine, suck in, stand still while the tech takes their images."
Now, for the woman. Hoist your boob on the platform. Lean in, relax your shoulder, tilt your head, move your other shoulder forward and smile for the camera. "Let me know if it hurts or not," the tech says. "Really?" Let me pinch and twist your nipple and twist and you tell me know if it hurts or not.
Humor is essential during these appointments. Fear seems to take over and all you're left with is wondering if the pain you're feeling in your breast is normal or not. A brave face is definitely not necessary, but protecting your loved ones from your fear is.
My sister tries to down play the whole experience, but she's watched me this past year go through chemotherapy, surgeries, countless biopsies, and my own fear of dying. She's tried to be brave for me and support me through my crisis of living of or dying.
Because she has no insurance, the only thing I can think of is encouraging her to go with me to Kansas City and encouraging her to make an appointment with my GYN. The wonderful thing about KU MED is that they will treat you like a person and if you don't have insurance or even if you're under insured, they will help you get the resources you need to be able to take care of the expense. They will tell you if there are scholarships available, or grants that you can take advantage of whereas, Salina Regional will not. They will perform a screening for you, but if you need to have a cyst aspirated, or you need a follow-up appointment with your doctor explaining what is going on with your results, you're out of luck. So what happens? Women who can't afford the next step after the screening just ignore what's going on because they can't afford it. And, it's not so much ignore, but as Melanie states, "What the fu** should I do now?"