Love you all!
Okay, okay- I get it! My lovely, wonderful, friends and family- you are so right. I don’t need to worry about what may happen in the future. So I will give it all to you to hold. Actually, I think we should all to have a big huge bonfire of the mind- we can toss all our worries on it and watch the sparks dance upward, everything burning to ashes. That’s how I pictured the chemo all this time, as a fire burning away the cancer, leaving a clean pink scar. (Well, it’s hard not to think of it as a healing fire, given the hot flashes I went through. My hands and feet are still burning and numb from the Taxol.)
I recieved two wonderful presents last week. One, from my VF friend Tami, was a book called “Model Patient: My Life As an Incurable Wise-Ass” by Karen Duffy. I laughed and cried as I read it- it really struck home. My new goal is to be as sassy and upbeat as “Duff”. Tami, I mailed you a thank you, but I also wanted to thank you here.
Second, from my wonderful TNT friend Barbara, I received my very own “end of chemo” marathon medal. That also made me laugh and cry. This was one race that I really didn’t plan to be in, but I’m so glad to have crossed that finish line. Now on to the next goal, the next finish line. Thanks, Barbara for reminding me that there is always another race to train for, another goal to aim for.
And I think I owe a very overdue public thank you to Andrea and her knitting buddies for my chemo caps! I know I wrote you a thank you, Andrea, but I never said anything here, because I kept planning on photos- alas, they never got done. My goal for this next week is to get those photos, because some of those caps are a riot! I think I also want a photo of me, my bald head, and my chemo medal!
The accumulation of 8 courses of chemo continues to affect me, even after the end. I still have the neuropathy, the chemo anemia- and now, after all this time, I’ve started to lose my eyelashes and some of my eyebrows. But I’m thinking a little clearer, so I guess some brain cells survived.
I want to assure Husband (not really sure who that is, just know that it is not my hubby) that I did in fact already have a full body PET scan. It only showed the cancer in the lymph nodes and no where else. According to my doctors, the PET does not always show all the tumors, though it does show most of them. There is a possibility that my primary tumor is microscopic in the breast and has just multiplied faster in the lymph nodes.
My surgery is scheduled for Thursday, March 8th. It will be the double mastectomy and removal of the ovaries. I’ve chosen no reconstruction at this time. Still getting all the details about how long I’ll be in the hospital, what my estimated recovery time will be, so I’ll let you know more later.
Sass on, everyone!
February 20, 2007 at 9:22 am
Clare, it’s so cool to see you so upbeat ! Congrats on the end of the chemo, and I’m smirking thinking of you as an incurable wise ass. I guess I’ve always known that about you, but to have it documented in a book is so funny! Kudos to Tami for sending it to you!
I’ll be thinking about you on March 8 and sending you good vibes. Love you too !!!
February 20, 2007 at 10:38 am
I’m up for the bonfire Clare! Let me know when and where
Please note I’m making an effort to post before Andrea so I can say more than ditto 
February 20, 2007 at 2:02 pm
Good idea! Let’s play with fire! Clare, I really like the ritual of “burning” worries, contracts (ideas that keep us stuck), and anything else that holds us back. It’s actually a great idea to physically burn a piece of paper with the worries written on it. Makes it all the more real.
Oops. I just should have said ditto.
I’m glad you found inspiration in that book from Tami. And I’m glad you’re feeling better in general.
February 20, 2007 at 11:04 pm
Clare - so glad you have crossed that chemo finish line. I know you’ve hit your share of walls along the way, but you made it. It WILL get better from here. I know at times like this we all tend to hang on every word the doctors say and will spend hours trying to figure out what they mean, but a lot of times, I don’t think the doctors even know what to say, unless they have a crystal ball hiding in their office. My cousin heard those exact works a few years ago “agressive nature”. She had a 1 year old and was diagnosed with “agressive” breast cancer (she’s also a cancer researcher!) I’m happy to say, she just gave birth to her second child a few months back. That was after the doctors told her she would never have anymore kids due to the potent chemo.
I hope all gets worked out with your insurance. That’s a stress you don’t need. Maybe I can put on your wig, go to TJ’s, pretend I am you, and build up your hours? I know, it’s a stretch, so I will have to come up with something else to help you out, especially since you will soon be recuperating from surgery.
Clare,you are one tough cookie. Hang in there. My thoughts are still with you!
February 21, 2007 at 12:02 pm
What wonderful gifts, Tami and Barbara! What incredibly thoughtful and wonderful presents.
And “knowing” Andrea, I’m sure the caps are a riot.
Such an upbeat post, Clare. It’s good to read and has brought a smile to my face.
February 22, 2007 at 9:20 am
Congratulations on the completion of chemo. You are doing fabulous. Screw the oncologist. I love the bon fire idea too. Barb’s right, positive thoughts. I am so glad you are feeling better. That in itself is a huge relief. Thanks for making me smile.
February 22, 2007 at 7:59 pm
Clare, I hope so much that you won’t mind my horning in here. You may remember me as an old-timer lurker/occasional poster at VF and at Cathe F’s site.
I’ve been following your blog ever since last fall when I read, with distress, your announcement at VF about your diagnosis. And I have been wanting for a while now to say that this place, your incredibly honest and intimate posts, and the responses of the extraordinary women in your group of friends — ALL of this just radiates the most astonishing power and strength and determination and optimism, and radiates it in beautifully-chosen words, I might add. WHAT an articulate crowd!!
So can I just say that I’m really humbled by all of you? Most of all by your grace and serenity, Clare, and your matter-of-fact bravery in the face of a scary-as-h*ll process. All of you make me very proud to be part of the Great Cosmic Sisterhood of Women.
Clare, you are and will stay in my prayers, and I am asking for you to have an easy surgery, a smooth and total and spectacular recovery complete with luscious new hair (and with the hair I’m having the Lord send you, who needs boobs??), and most of all a long and wonderful lifetime with all of these people who love you. Sending BIG (((((((HUGS))))))))!!!!!!!
February 22, 2007 at 9:07 pm
You made it, Clare! Thanks for sharing the journey with us, and I’m not at all surprised to see you coming out of this with your attitude intact.
I love the bonfire imagery.
February 26, 2007 at 8:00 am
Hi Clare,
As usual, I’m reading this after everyone else (seems like I’m always running behind). Ditto to everything above.
The hair, the eye brows, and the lashes will grow back. Mine are starting. And the boobs, who needs them? I would do the same in your shoes.
Good luck with the surgery. The sad thing about breast cancer is that it is so common these surgeries are routine. But that is good for those of us going through the surgeries (not that my lumpectomy is anywhere near comparable to a double mastectomy). I’ll be thinking of you on March 8th and praying for your recovery.
March 4, 2007 at 7:44 am
Hi there, Clare — not sure if you remember me from the Cathe trips. I’m the one who wrote the poems afterward.
Anyway, I will be thinking of you on the 8th. I always knew you were a very strong woman, your battle with cancer just proves it!
About that bonfire… burn, baby, burn!
March 9, 2007 at 4:26 pm
Oh Clare, I’m so glad you got the book.
I loved Duff’s attitude too. I’m thrilled to hear (through VF) that your surgery went smoothly. You look great, by the way - beautiful, in fact.