GUY’S GOTTA TALK ABOUT BREAST CANCER #48: END OF AN ERA – Removing the Implants…

From the first moment my wife discovered she had breast cancer, there was a deafening silence from the men I know. Even ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started this blog…

Yesterday, my wife went in for a consultation to – after nearly 10 years with discomfort that began almost immediately – remove the breast implants that, along with a platform and removal of several muscles, were the “breast cancer reconstruction”. The removal of breast implants is also called an “explant”.

I did an entire series starting in April of 2013 and if you want to read it, the links are at the end of this essay.

Needless to say, the date of the consultation, originally made two years ago…and then cancelled due to the global COVID-19 pandemic…was met with (for me) incomprehensible trepidation. In other words, deep fear that was truly impossible for me to understand.

My wife had seen the surgeon on a television interview on a local news station, and unlike the male surgeon who performed the initial reconstruction, was a woman. She seemed to be the perfect match for my wife, in that she was also an oncologist. If anything were to go wrong, this is the doctor who would know what to do next.

So yesterday, my wife set off for the long, long delayed consultation, with her oldest and closest friend at her side…because I was sitting with my middle school grandson who had come down with influenza (which was, of course, sweeping through the middle school…which is a surging mass of coughing, sneezing, touching pre-and-mid-adolescents…don’t get me wrong, I really loved my decade as an 8th grade Earth science teacher. I WAS however burned out and gladly advanced to teaching high school…albeit BARELY more civilized ninth graders.)

At any rate, the two coincided and I sat while my wife and her best female friend headed to the clinic. I can’t give you details of what transpired there, but she went in pensive and mostly silent while I was in the car. The biggest concern was if the surgeon would still do the surgery with the threat of lymphedema hanging over her head.

I won’t draw it out, but she texted me 45 minutes later (BARELY enough time for them to get to the clinic, let alone enough time to discuss the explant and make plans!) she was on her way to pick me up from my grandson (who was fast asleep)...

But that’s what happened. The doctor was very matter-of-fact, sympathetic, and authentic. My wife liked her, and they discussed what the expectations are for both the end result and the actual surgery. As might be imagined both the surgery and the recovery are significantly less invasive than the reconstruction was. The explant is standard procedure for any woman with implants, and should take place between 10 to 15 years. (See this link for an article on what, precisely is done: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2022/03/related-medical-issues-right-now-6.html)

Recovery will involve the same kinds of adaptations to post-surgery procedures: chest drains, restricted lifting, stretching, reaching, or other day-to-day movements that will have to be approached with caution until healing is complete. They talked about other issues, but one unexpected bonus, was that the doctor gave my wife a contact for getting her compression sleeves covered by our insurance.

So, we wait today for the date of surgery to be assigned – and a few more blog entries on the subject in the future.

THE RECONSTRUCTION ERA Series
Part 1: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-reconstruction-era-part-1.html
Part 2: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-reconstruction-era-part-2.html
Part 3: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-reconstruction-era-part-3.html
Part 4: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-reconstruction-era-part-4.html
Part 5: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-reconstruction-era-part-5.html
Part 6: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-reconstruction-era-part-6.html
Part 7a: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-reconstruction-era-part-7a.html
Part 7b: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-reconstruction-era-part-7b.html
Part 8: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-reconstruction-era-part-8.html
Part 9: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-reconstruction-era-part-9.html
Part 10: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-reconstruction-era-part-10.html
Part 11: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-reconstruction-era-part-11.html
Part 12: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-reconstruction-era-part-12.html
Part 13: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-reconstruction-era-history-and.html

Image: http://wrex.images.worldnow.com/images/23784252_SA.jpg

ENCORE #181! – Godzilla vs Breast Cancer

From the first moment my wife discovered she had breast cancer in March of 2011, there was a deafening silence from the men I knew. Even ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started this blog…That was four years ago – as time passed, people searching for answers stumbled across my blog and checked out what I had to say. The following entry first appeared in August 2012…

Next Thursday, I’ll be going with my wife to the One Year Appointment. At the end of August, 2011, her chemo was done. Since then, it’s been a regimen of daily pills, bouts of lymphedema and struggles with balancing medications (cholesterol, synthroid, pseudephedrine, and so on).

HOWEVER, it’s also been a year filled with all kinds of joy: haircuts, camping and travelling (which stopped last summer), party times with friends without exhaustion setting in, play time with the grandkids and walks in the park, 25th Wedding Anniversary date to a dinner theater, parting with our daughter, three times to fireworks, and plans for our foster daughter to go to New Zealand. A rich life, to be sure.

NOT that life before cancer wasn’t rich before, but now there’s a new appreciation of life. I don’t take traveling for granted any more. I certainly don’t take CAMPING for granted anymore: the roughness of the terrain, distance to the bathrooms and the bugs and darkness are tough enough for an able-bodied old man like me. They would have been very, very difficult for someone in the throes of chemotherapy! The fact that we could celebrate 25 years together after a hellish year following the initial diagnosis is spectacular!

The worry is much less as well – last summer, every time I went to work, I worried. It made for a pretty bleak time in some ways. I tried to keep my Scandinavian stoicism well-oiled and practiced, but I’m sure the anger, fear and bitterness leaked through (ask my students to see if I managed).

Not this summer! We’re even planning on going to the Great Minnesota Get-Together (for those of you reading this who are not from Minnesota, it’s also known as the Minnesota State Fair) after the One Year appointment to walk about and eat ourselves silly – and probably watch the fireworks show just before we go home (making it four fireworks displays we’ll have seen!)

Life is sweet – but let me add a caveat: life is NOT “the same” as it was before the breast cancer diagnosis of March 2011. Every moment, every event, every laugh, every fireworks explosion is a cause for celebration. Every hug from our grandkids, every tear-inducing laugh during cards, every walk to the park to throw the dog’s rope, every plan we make for the new cabinets and every trip to Target is cause for sighing in wonder at the things that make for life.

I am a blessed man; even with that, I extend my deepest sympathies to those who have lost their mate, their love, their mother, sister, colleague or partner to this scourge. We WILL defeat it! (AND, I have to find a T-shirt that has Godzilla stomping out breast cancer!)

Image: [Download Image] Pink Box White Godzilla

Encouragement (In Suffering, Pain, and Witnessing Both…) #20: What do I say to others who are diagnosed with breast cancer?

The older I get, the more suffering and pain I’ve experienced; and the more of both I stand witness to. From my wife’s (and many, many of our friends and coworkers) battle against breast cancer; to my dad’s (and the parents of many of our friends and coworkers) process as he fades away as this complex disease breaks the connections between more and more memories, I have become not only frustrated with suffering, pain, and having to watch both, I have been witness to the suffering and pain among the students I serve as a school counselor. I have become angry and sometimes paralyzed. This is my attempt to lift myself from the occasional stifling grief that darkens my days…

The one thing you can say to someone who has had the world-shattering diagnosis of breast cancer (or any cancer in fact), is guaranteed to be the right thing to say, no matter what, no matter your relationship with that person.

That “magic phrase” is to say…nothing.

The magic has never been in your words, the magic has ALWAYS been in your presence in their lives. For me? Words have always failed when a friend, relative, or a loved one hears that blood-chilling sentence, “I’m sorry, but based on our tests, the tumor we found is cancerous…”

The doctor typically keeps on talking; how early they caught it, how many treatments are available, how good science has gotten in dealing with it, how your friends will rally around you…the victim is deaf to any words after those fateful thirteen words.

You can BE with them. Comforting words are just that – compressed energy waves that travel through the air until they reach the eardrum and set it to vibrating, creating electric currents that reach the eardrum and vibrate creating MORE electric currents that go to the brain, where they’re interpreted as words…

Being with them is a TACTILE sensation. You are solid in a world that has suddenly turned upside down.

From the American Cancer Society, “Some people worry about what to say when a person with cancer talks or asks about dying. Listen to them and be open and honest…There are no magic words for a person who is dying, but often your presence and support goes a long way.”

Specific to breast cancer? Nothing in particular, but Healthline offers this, “You may think that if a friend is telling you they have breast cancer that they want to talk about the diagnosis. The truth is, they may not. They may just be letting you know.” So, be sensitive. LISTEN. That’s so important when you’re with someone who has a BC diagnosis. What they REALLY DON’T WANT TO HEAR is “encouraging stories”! They don’t want to know that your great aunt had breast cancer and beat it. The ONLY time you can share particulars (MEN, pay attention!) is if you, yourself are a breast cancer survivor.

Even then, ask if they want to talk. If it’s early in the diagnosis, they’re hearing from doctors and clinics and hospitals and programs…until they’re ready to puke. They may just want SILENCE. Your wife/girlfriend/lover may just want to put her head on your shoulder. For a while. For hours. They may just want to be held. ASK. But be there.

BE THERE! Cedar-Sinai's Samuel Oschin Comprehensive Cancer Institute, writes, “I see it every day. People who have a great caregiver in their lives generally get through treatment better than patients who are more isolated. In fact, there's evidence that chronic loneliness can worsen outcomes. Women who don't have strong social ties, or who lack the support of a partner, have a higher risk of recurrence and poorer survival rates.”

BE THERE, even if you have to force yourself to keep your mouth shut. Do it.

Resources: https://www.cancer.org/treatment/caregivers/when-someone-you-know-has-cancer.html#:~:text=Listen%20to%20them%20and%20be,support%20goes%20a%20long%20way., https://www.healthline.com/health/expert-tips-talk-to-friend-with-breast-cancer#what-to-say, https://www.cedars-sinai.org/blog/woman-life-breast-cancer.html
Image: http://www.quoteambition.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/encourage-quotes-destiny.jpg

Encore # 180!: I Have To Keep Telling Myself That The “New Normal” Isn’t The “Old Normal”

From the first moment my wife discovered she had breast cancer in March of 2011, there was a deafening silence from the men I knew. Even ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started this blog…That was four years ago – as time passed, people searching for answers stumbled across my blog and checked out what I had to say. The following entry first appeared in October 2012.

Working full-time as a classroom aide for a kindergarten class is a draining experience even for the young and able-bodied! The classroom teacher is a young woman with loads of energy, enthusiasm and ideas – and SHE is often worn out at the end of the day! How could my wife possibly expect to keep up with her – as well as chasing after 25 five-going-on-six little kids, and closely monitoring and recording data on one child in the class who needs LOTS of supervision?

She works at the elementary school in the district with THE highest level of poverty. The neighborhood her school is in is primarily made up of apartments, has an airport, several vacant lots, one partially burned out gas station, suburban row houses all built within weeks of each other in 1956 and beginning to look their age. The environment is dilapidated, the school is dilapidated, the charter school next door to her school siphons off the best and the brightest leaving her school with more than its fair share of challenges.

She comes home exhausted every day and wonders when she’s going to feel better. Lymphedema is a concern still – nah, it’s downright worrisome. Yesterday she broke out in hives because she didn’t rinse out her compression sleeve well enough – because she was tired. Her feet are sore. Her knees and joints are sore (though that has gotten better since she’s gone gluten free) and she doesn’t remember feeling this crappy BEFORE the surgery, chemo and recovery.

So when WILL she feel like she used to? When will she feel normal?

In a transcript of a panel discussion on “Life After Breast Cancer” posted at http://secondopinion-tv.org/episode/life-after-breast-cancer, one of the panelists notes, “It's not possible to ‘flip a switch’ and immediately go back to a former life at full throttle. The body is in repair mode and women have to pace themselves. In fact, it may take a year or more to regain a sufficient level of energy and sense of well-being.”

Debbie Woodbury, commenting on a question at Talk About Health (http://talkabouthealth.com/how-long-did-it-take-for-you-to-feel-normal-again-after-breast-cancer-or-do-you-ever-feel-normal-again) points out: “Emotionally, it took even longer [than a year] to heal, but I will never be the same as I was before the cancer...no cancer survivor I've ever talked to...has ever told me that they were able to return to the normal life they had before they were diagnosed. It just doesn't happen. Cancer redefines normal.”

What exactly is a repair mode? Technically “recovery” has to do with the initial surgical recovery, but, “After your cancer treatment, as a cancer survivor you're eager to return to good health. But beyond your initial recovery, there are ways to improve your long-term health so that you can enjoy the years ahead as a cancer survivor. The recommendations for cancer survivors are no different from the recommendations for anyone who wants to improve his or her health: Exercise, eat a balanced diet, maintain a healthy weight, avoid tobacco and limit the amount of alcohol you drink. But for cancer survivors, these strategies have added benefits. These simple steps can improve your quality of life, smoothing your transition into survivorship.”

This is recovery.

“But doctor, will I ever be able to play the violin after I recover?”
“Of course!”
“That’s amazing! I never played it before the surgery!”

Ba dum bum. Everything people have blogged leads me to believe that the repair mode of post-cancer recovery is long and difficult. Of COURSE you feel better than you did immediately after surgery. It seems like things are getting better fast. But that’s different. Cancer is invasive and if you’ve undergone a prolonged chemo or radiation therapy, then your entire body has been weakened – from head to toe.

“You may have permanent scars on your body, or you may not be able to do some things you once did easily. Or you may even have emotional scars from going through so much. You may find that others think of you differently now - or you may view yourself in a different way…”, “...those who have gone through cancer treatment describe the first few months as a time of change...finding out what's normal for you now. People often say that life has new meaning or that they look at things differently now. You can also expect things to keep changing as you begin your recovery. Your new ‘normal may include making changes in the way you eat, the things you do, and your sources of support...follow-up care. Should I tell the doctor about symptoms that worry me? Which doctors should I see after treatment? How often should I see my doctor? What tests do I need? What can be done to relieve pain, fatigue, or other problems after treatment? How long will it take for me to recover and feel more like myself? Is there anything I can or should be doing to keep cancer from coming back?”

All of this – and MORE – are things to factor into recovery.

The answer to the ultimate question, “So when WILL she feel like she used to?” may not have a clear or solid answer. I suppose the best response might be, “e) All of the above”...

Resources: http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/coping/life-after-treatment/page1/AllPages
Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg