ENCORE #186! – Lumps. Bumps. Divots. Scars.

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 March of 2015…

I have a divot in my forehead.

My wife has a divot in her side. Both sides, actually.

Breast cancer – skin cancer in my own experience – is all about divots.

Define divot (plural divots)
1.A torn up piece of turf (e.g. by a golf club in making a stroke or by a horse's hoof).
2.A disruption in an otherwise smooth contour.

It’s the second definition that concerns me here.

After discovery and confirmation four years ago this week, the breast cancer specialists we were working with looked at several options. One of them, used in cases where the cancer was discovered early and was small, is called a “lumpectomy”. In this procedure (I was just struck this MOMENT by the sterility of this word. It sounds so clean and simple. Like when I did “cookbook labs” as a science teacher. It involved steps students would follow to achieve a very specific result. For lots of kids, it involved reading and rereading the procedure, their finger under the step they were following so they could get it “right”. Lumpectomies are nowhere NEAR this simple and involve invasive methods that deform the breast...) “Lumpectomy is the removal of the breast tumor (the "lump") and some of the normal tissue that surrounds it.

Lumpectomy is a form of “breast-conserving” or "breast preservation" surgery. There are several names used for breast-conserving surgery: biopsy, lumpectomy, partial mastectomy, re-excision, quadrantectomy, or wedge resection. Technically, a lumpectomy is a partial mastectomy, because part of the breast tissue is removed. But the amount of tissue removed can vary greatly. Quadrantectomy, for example, means that roughly a quarter of your breast will be removed. Make sure you have a clear understanding from your surgeon about how much of your breast may be gone after surgery and what kind of scar you will have.”

While this makes an attempt at realism, nothing can quite convey the results but a person who experienced it.

My wife had a double mastectomy which is the most extreme form of breast cancer surgery possible.

I can NEVER know what that’s like. I can only imagine it.

Since my own skin cancer surgery, I’ve had a tiny, non-life-threatening taste of what it might possibly feel like to have a lumpectomy. One of the cancers on my face was on my forehead. Using the Mohs procedure (described here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/11/guys-gotta-talk-about-9face-and-breast.html) layers of tissue that have cancer cells are removed, tested, then the incision is either closed or another layer of cells are removed and tested. The end result, after healing and recovery, has been a “divot” in my forehead. Touching it right now, I can ASSURE you that it is gigantic and I’m positive everyone sees it but out of politeness, ignores it.

Right. I work in a high school. Politeness is something we work on in our kids every day because about half of them have never experienced it at home. If anyone noticed a divot in my forehead, they’d tell me. Ergo: it’s not noticeable.

My wife had me look at a small lump on her left side, asking, “Is this one of the places that the drains went in?” A matched spot above it confirmed that it is, indeed, the place where one of the drains exited the surgical field four years ago. She also has a scar where the port was placed in order to do chemotherapy.

Lumps. Bumps. Divots. Scars.

These are clearly the legacy of breast cancer – of any kind of cancer. I’m sure plastic surgery could clear up many of them, yet I feel no compulsion at all to GET the surgery. I wonder why...

Sorry for the rambling commentary. But that’s where I’m at today...

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg        

ENCORE #185! – NO Benadryl Redux!

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 June of 2017…

When my wife began her chemotherapy in 2014, we knew she was going in for the most aggressive treatment. The first day, we checked in, and after the nurses “hooked her up”, they added a Benadryl drip.

We all know that Benadryl is supposed to dampen an allergic reaction, but what was it supposed to do during chemo? Here’s what I found: “Diphenhydramine works by blocking the action of histamine, a substance in the body that causes allergy-type symptoms. It has also been found to be slightly effective against the nausea and vomiting that can be caused by chemotherapy and/or help prevent side effects from other anti-nausea medications.”

So, in order to reduce nausea, they gave her Benadryl. Cool.

The effect in HER, however overshadowed any possible lessening of the nausea. Her legs began to wildly spasm – a sort of “SUPER-restless-leg-syndrome” (Which see here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2017/03/encore-58-dealing-with-restless-limb.html).

So what does this (thankfully!) long-past reaction have to do with today?

Rashes. She’s discovered that she gets hives on her head and chest. It’s a reaction that actually has a name: Sun Allergy (http://www.health.harvard.edu/allergies/sun-allergy-photosensitivity)

Chemo drugs – in fact ANY drug – can cause some form of photosensitivity. “Photosensitivity is an enhanced skin response to ultraviolet radiation (sunlight). There are three types of photosensitivity reactions phototoxic, photoallergic and UV recall reaction. Phototoxic reactions are common photosensitivity reactions and can be produced in most individuals given a high enough dose of drug and sufficient light exposure. These photosensitivity reactions are usually evident within 5-20 hours of exposure and resembles an exaggerated sunburn (redness, swelling, blistering, weeping and peeling). The rash is confined to areas exposed to light. Drugs associated with these photosensitivity reactions are dacarbazine, fluorouracil, methotrexate and vinblastine. Photoallergic reactions are less common than phototoxic reactions. A photoallergic reaction is similar to a phototoxic reaction but the reaction may spread beyond area's exposed to light. A drug that may have this photosensitivity reaction is flutamide.”

Do we KNOW this is what happened? No. Does it seem possible? Yes. Maybe we can move forward from here, eh – that is, “Just one MORE thing to think about post-cancer!”

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #184! – Chemo Killed Colds…and Other Weird Thoughts

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 December of 2012 – almost a decade ago…

My wife’s down with a coughing, miserable, fever-full something-or-other, most likely the most recent form of the noravirus...

Working in an elementary school, she’s usually immune to whatever plague is making its way through the general population. But when something smacks into the school and it’s new, and the kids are staying home in droves…well, the staff usually gets it and it wipes them out, too.

So she’s down for the last day before Christmas Vacation.

It wasn’t like that during chemo. We’ve talked about it before. All of the normal illnesses seemed to give way in front of the onslaught of Taxotere (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/10/whats-it-do.html), Adriamycin (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/10/adriamycin-whats-it-do.html), and Cytoxan (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/11/cytoxan-whats-it-do.html), grouped with Neulasta (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/11/neulasta-whats-it-do.html).

But was that truth or only appearance?

Appearance, I guess (http://www.cdc.gov/cancer/preventinfections/patients.htm); though the FACT was that my wife got sick with garden-variety colds and infections less often while she was taking chemo and a reasonable conclusion would be that her blood would be highly toxic to anything else that got into her.

BUT…what about neulasta (the brand name of a compound called PEG-filgrastim)? If white blood cells fight off disease and neulasta BOOSTS the white blood cell count…

I did a lengthy search, but can find virtually NOTHING regarding people who have taken neulasta without having some sort of disease. While one of the side effects of using neulasta is a decrease in mineral bone density, there don’t seem to be any other consistent and wide-spread reactions (of course, there are isolated incidences of nausea, etc. One person even reacted by getting horrible pocks of dead and dying flesh (called Sweets Syndrome)).

It would be interesting to find out if there have been instances of people who took neulasta without having any sort of illness. Would they have a super-immune system? Would they sail through life without illness? Don’t know. The intent of neulasta injections coupled with chemotherapy is to boost the immune system’s response in order to ward of infections during the treatment. That’s what it did for my wife.

The question I have is that if it did that during chemotherapy when the immune system was weak; what would it do for a HEALTHY immune system?

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #183! – Lymph Node Excision, Mosquito Bites and “A Return To ‘Normal’”

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…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 July 2012.

Here again, just in time for the season!

After my wife came home from a lymphedema expert at the hospital, I asked her how it had gone. The answer was that the swelling is receding slowly and that the pressure sleeve would be here soon.

She asked how often she would have to wear it, the doctor replied, “Forever.” She added, “Oh, and don’t ever get a mosquito bite. That’s one of the worst things in the world.”

*blink in startlement*

I don’t know about where you all live, perhaps someone lives in Arizona or New Zealand or Hawaii where mosquitoes aren’t a big deal. But in Minnesota, we (somewhat facetiously; but only SOMEWHAT…) call the mosquito our “state bird”. They are everywhere.

Granted, susceptibility to mosquito bites ranges from, say, me to say, my wife…

I get bitten, make no mistake. But my wife? Let me illustrate: we went to a recent fireworks fest celebrating one or another of some small town’s heritages. Great times! We sat in camp chairs set up in the middle of the street. The next morning, she showed me a pair of fist-sized welts, one on each side of her back that had been “exposed” (even though they were covered by T-shirt material!) where NUMEROUS mosquitoes had bitten her!

Take this little tidbit and add it to the doctor’s admonition and you get a recipe for me *blinking in startlement*.

So what’s the problem with mosquito bites?

First of all, let’s review the lymph nodes, which I talked about in depth here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2012/02/lymphedema-another-for-rest-of-your.html.

Excision means to remove or cut out. When the breast cancer was initially diagnosed in my wife, the doctors were very, very interested in how far it had spread. If it remained only in the breast, it was “less dangerous”. But if it had spread to the lymph nodes in the armpit (usually), the diagnosis was more terrifying and led to identifying the stage of the cancer. For a complete explanation, try this site:  http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/diagnosis/staging.jsp. They found cancer cells in the node and bumped the diagnosis from 0 to IIIB. This required them to removed lymph nodes – 21 in all and eventually the news that lymphedema would be a FOREVER concern.

Now to mosquito bites. Why are they such a concern? “...some insect bites probably are inevitable...treat them...to lessen the histamine effect, which can cause increased swelling in that area. Benadryl or hydrocortisone creams are two treatment options for insect bites. An ointment with aluminum sulfate as the active ingredient can also help decrease the effects of bites and stings...Treat an insect bite like any break in the skin on your limb at risk. Wash and dry the area completely and apply antibiotic cream to the area...take along a specialized first aid kit. The kit should include alcohol wipes to clean off any skin break, antibiotic cream for application on the skin, and bandages to protect the area…An insect repellent is a good idea...natural repellents, usually with citronella as the active ingredient, and these can be less detrimental to your skin...avoid putting insect repellent on your skin and then wearing a compression garment over it...”

So...if you live in Minnesota, WHAT THE HECK DO YOU DO!?!?!?!?!?

Deep breath.

Now you can be prepared for summer camping. As prepared as you can be!

Reference: http://www.lymphnet.org/lymphedemaFAQs/riskReduction/summerTips.htm

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #182! – When Are You Back Up To Full Speed?

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 of 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?

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 again?”
“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

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

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

ENCORE #179! – The Post Cancer Crash

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 June of 2012…

Right after the literal and economic “boom” of WWI, came the Roaring Twenties. Life was good, coming together as Americans during The War Against The Kaiser had been followed by the heady rush of becoming a World Power, and it looked like the future was going to be bright, indeed.

Right after WWII came the Fabulous Fifties when America could do no wrong and we invented everything from hula hoops to the H-bomb and Elvis Presley.

The Great Depression came crashing down on the heels of the Roaring Twenties and the Fabulous Fifties were followed by the riots and assassinations of the Tumultuous Sixties.

For me, the bravery, positive outlook, and grand support of the Diagnosis, Surgery and Treatment year has come crashing down around my ears as the Post-Cancer Crash. Chemo is done, regular “How’s your wife doing this week?”s have dwindled to the occasional, off-hand query usually briefly answered.

My pink shoelaces are tattered and my wristband is dirty and faded. I am, quite frankly, left feeling depressed. No one’s fault but my own as there appears to be no more battle to fight. There’s no more heart-stopping terror to overcome. And really? My wife is alive and hasn’t felt better in YEARS!

So what’s up with me? I should be dancing on streets of gold, lolling about in Paradise, praising God from the rooftops, the skyscraper tops. Instead, I’m feeling quietly contemplative and a bit sad.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-9 talks about the fact that there are times in a person’s life that are given over to various things. Perhaps the past year was “a time to kill (cancer)...weep...be silent...war (on cancer)...hate (cancer)”.

In the same way – and in a NOT BAD way, perhaps now is “a time to heal...build up…a time for peace.” Perhaps now is the time to start growing again as well.

Perhaps now is a time to come back to life again. Perhaps now is “a time to throw away” the bitterness, anger and fear I’ve lived with for the past 18 months.

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Now release. Repeat.

There’s a faint smile on my face right now, so this must be the right thing to do...

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #178! – Of Pink Shoelaces and Pink Wristbands

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 June of 2012 – almost ten years ago…

One of the main events of my life (after my wedding day, birth of my kids, marriage of my son, and birth of my grandkids) is my almost annual Young Authors Conference.

The event is planned and executed with elan and has been held at various colleges in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area for the past 22 years. I’ve been a part of the event – first as a chaperone and eventually as one of the workshop leaders – for at least fifteen of those years. There are lots and lots of people who have made those events special, but there was one yesterday that makes me smile and feel warm inside…

I’ll back up a little to explain that about a year ago, early on in my wife’s breast cancer story, a god friend of ours ordered (what she thought) was a pair of very, very pink shoelaces. She found out, on delivery, that she’d ordered TEN pairs of shoelaces. I took a pair for my own black Reeboks and laced them up.

As I am [was] a high school counselor who was recently a classroom science teacher, I come into contact with 14-18 year olds on a daily, moment-by-moment basis. The day after I put in the laces, a student dashed into my office, stopped abruptly and said, “I like your shoelaces.”

“Oh,” I replied, “I got them because my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry Mr. Stewart. I hope she gets better…”

From that day forward, I get some sort of comment or other on the shoelaces at LEAST once a week.

Yesterday at the Young Authors Conference, I was heading downstairs for the last time, pulling a suitcase full of books behind me. Passing a pair of young ladies – probably 7th or 8th graders – one of them snickering, said, “I like your suitcase!”

Smiling grimly and knowing EXACTLY how me – a big, old, fat white guy – must look pulling a hot pink suitcase on rollers (that actually belongs to my daughter!), I laughed and said, “Thanks!”

Then she said, “I like your shoelaces, too!”

I stopped, held out my foot and said, “Oh, I wear these because my wife is a breast cancer survivor – a little over a year now!”

Her eyes got big and her face went from teasing laughter to seriousness as she said, “Oh! My grandma had breast cancer!”

Right there, we had a connection – the horror of the initial diagnosis, pain of watching someone we loved go through the treatment, and the joy in a clean diagnosis after a terrible nightmare. For a moment our lives touched and we smiled at each other, two people who had been able to do nothing but love a suffering “someone” we knew and be there for them and pray for them and do anything else we could possibly think of…like wear something pink so that we identify ourselves as a sort of “Pink Horde”…

That made my day. It made my week. It made me thankful for the support I’ve gotten and the support I’ve been able to give.

It made me thankful my wife is healthy, happy and very much alive!

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE # 177! – Exercise May Improve Immune Functions! How Can THAT Happen???

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 April of 2012.

Doctors harp on exercise.

Despite the harping – or in my case, perversely because of it – I avoid exercise like the plague.

Even so, as I read more and more sites promoting the “exercise makes you better if you have breast cancer” meme, I found that almost none of them give any kind of evidence as to WHY exercise fights cancer and promotes healing.

So I dug into the sites and finally found some evidence supporting this wild, “Do this one weird thing…” kind of meme. This week, it’s number:

1) Physical activity may decrease risk for various cancers by improving immune function

I was a biology major in college – not because I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up. Not because I loved animals. I was a bio major because I loved LIFE! (No, not THAT kind of life. I hated crazy parties with drunken young adults wandering around, trying to shout over obnoxiously loud music and the inevitable whiff of various and sundry “recreational substances” in use. Thanks, but no thanks…) I loved diatoms and dinosaurs; liver flukes and lilies; Euglena and elephantiasis...I didn’t have FUN with it always, but I loved it.

One of the “basic” classes I took was Immunology. I still have the text in my basement library. Published in 1978, it has absolutely NO mention of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome – what we call AIDS. In fact, Immunology was an ELECTIVE class any bio major could take. No one HAD to take it because, after all, while interesting, the immune system wasn’t all THAT important in the broad sweep of things...

“The immune system is a system of biological structures and processes within an organism that protects against disease. In order to function properly, an immune system must detect a wide variety of agents, from viruses to parasitic worms, and distinguish them from the organism's own healthy tissue... [the system includes] enzymes, phagocytosis (cells that eat other cells – the white blood cell in particular), antimicrobial peptides (molecules that kill microscopic creatures), and the complement system (a biochemical cascade that attacks the surfaces of foreign cells – one you might know is “histamine” – most of you reading this have at some time or another taken Benadryl®, which is an ANTI-histamine) as well as the well-known antibodies that zap very particular body invaders and the ability to adapt over time to recognize specific pathogens more efficiently.”

So how does exercise “boost” the immune system?

“Moderate exercise has been linked to a positive immune system response and a temporary boost in the production of the cells that attack bacteria (like wbcs)...there are physiological changes in the immune system as a response to exercise...immune cells circulate through the body more quickly and are better able to kill bacteria and viruses...consistent, regular exercise seems to make these changes a bit more long-lasting...when moderate exercise is repeated on a near-daily basis there is a cumulative effect that leads to a long-term immune response...those who walk [vigorously] for 40 minutes per day had half as many sick days due to colds or sore throats as those who don't exercise.”

And how does this relate to breast cancer?

“Exercise pumps up the immune system and lowers estrogen levels. With as little as four hours of exercise per week, a woman can begin to lower her risk of breast cancer.”

“You’ll be able to maintain a healthy weight. Regular exercise can help you maintain a healthy weight by building muscle and burning fat... fat cells make estrogen; extra fat cells mean more estrogen in the body and estrogen can make hormone-receptor-positive breast cancers develop and grow.”

Lastly: “Compared with the other women in the study, the women in the exercise group also boosted their number of activated T cells, made more lymphocytes, and lowered their levels of an inflammatory marker (a kind of chemical that signals parts of the body to “swell and get warm”). That data came from blood tests done after chemotherapy and at the study's midpoint and end.”

“Improvements in T cells with post-chemo exercise were also recently reported by Canadian researchers. They say they saw the benefit in a small group of postmenopausal breast cancer survivors who worked out on stationary bikes three times per week for 15 weeks.”

What are T cells? “T lymphocytes belong to a group of white blood cells known as lymphocytes, and play a central role”…when the immune system uses CELLS to attack infections. Exercise stimulates the making of these cells in the thymus part of the brain.

So – exercise boosts the immune system in several ways: helps to circulate wbcs and T cells, lowers the chemicals that cause swelling, lowers the number of fat cells which make estrogen which strengthens breast cancer cells making them harder for the immune system to fight and regular exercise keeps the immune system working like this LONGER.

Hmmm – pretty good excuse to get on those treadmills, recliner bikes, ellipticals or just go out and WALK!

Resources: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immune_system, http://sportsmedicine.about.com/od/injuryprevention/a/Ex_Immunity.htm, http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,159201,00.html
Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE! #176! – Lymphedema -- Another "For-the-Rest-of-Your-Life" Thing...

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 February of 2012…

Once the surgery was over and the “main” healing begun, we talked with my wife’s cancer care team and they introduced us to lymphedema.

First of all, “What is lymphedema?”

Let’s begin with an overview of the body system affected by this. Lymph is a clear fluid that lies in between the cells of the body. It’s there to feed the cells and to carry away waste. It comes from the blood itself and (to put it as simply as possible), “leaks” out of the tiny vessels that carry blood. It leave the red blood cells behind and if it were not cleared out, it would cause a massive amount of swelling.

Another system of vessels call the lymphatic system, “vacuums up” that lymph and carries it back to the heart.

HOWEVER, where the circulatory system as the heart to push the blood around, the lymphatic system HAS NO HEART!

The only way to lymph can move around is by you and I moving. The movement of our muscles presses the lymph into the collection spots called the lymph nodes. These nodes are a gathered at very specific points in our bodies – the places where we move the most, the joints. Behind the knees, in the groin, the elbows, the armpits, the neck is where you’ll find large clusters of nodes. In addition you can find nodes in the lungs, underneath the chest muscles, along the spine as well as numerous other places in the body.

These nodes not only collect lymph to pass it back to the heart, they are also places where white blood cells made in the bone marrow, thymus, spleen and tonsils are gathered to be redistributed through the bloodstream to fight disease in the body.

The nodes are vital in moving the lymph fluid around and when some are removed during a mastectomy, the ease with which lymph can be moved is weakened. Even though there are still nodes under the muscles and in places besides the nodes – and so removal doesn’t instantly STOP the movement of lymph – it does reduce how much lymph can be moved around.

You probably already know that white blood cells fight disease. They also fight infections as well. When you get a cut or have surgery, white blood cells are moved by the body through the blood stream to the wound and often times leave the bloodstream to fight the infection. Once the infection is past, the white blood cells need to be transported back to the heart to go back into the bloodstream again.

When nodes are removed through surgery (or other damage or illness), the process takes much longer to “clear out” the white blood cells and the other extra fluid that the wound or damage caused. Because blood never stops flowing at its regular rate, fluid is still NORMALLY leaking out between cells. When you add the normal fluid leakage to the extra fluid and white blood cells from an infection, you get too much fluid in one place. This is called lymphedema (lymph of course, is what we’ve been talking about here; “edema” is a Greek word that means “to swell”).

The second question is: “What can I do about it?”

Lymphedema is treated by pushing the extra fluid back to where it belongs by helping the muscles and lymph nodes that are missing. Often this involves using massage as well as a compression garment: “The most common treatments for lymphedema are a combination of manual compression lymphatic massage, compression garments or bandaging.” Regular exercise is also helpful (see last week’s article on exercise: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2012/01/10-exercise-hints-for-cancer-folk-and.html for some pointers!)

This is very straightforward, does not appear in any of the reading I did to be something to PANIC about…it does however require an awareness of what’s happening in your body and how to deal with it!

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #175! – All Quiet On The Western Front

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 July of 2012…ten years ago.

Like most of you, I recognized this blog title as the name of an old book – maybe an old war movie.

I’d assumed it was about World War II, I suppose because that’s the war I’m “familiar” with.

It’s neither and it fits even better my current state of mind.

The main characters of the book are German boys sent to the Western Front – the leading edge of the German invasion into France and a place where the war essentially “stopped”. From its closest approach to Paris in September of 1914 to the position the Allies pushed them back to 1916 and where the war stagnated, little of import happened there. That is the thrust of the book. From the ground, when you are young and the horrors of war can’t possibly match anything you’ve ever seen, “nothing happens”.

The problem is that while nothing appears to change on the Front, nothing also changes back home. When you return home, while everyone is glad to see you and everything is just as you left it – you are no longer the same person who went to war. You have seen things you can’t even explain to those who remained behind.

In the book, ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT, the main character, Paul Bäumer is a soldier who—urged on by his school teacher—joined the German army shortly after the war began, and who is all of nineteen years old. Some time later, Paul visits on leave to his home which highlights the cost of the war on his psyche. The town has not changed since he went off to war; however, he finds that he does ‘not belong here anymore, it is a foreign world.’ He feels disconnected from most of the townspeople…not understanding ‘that a man cannot talk of such things.’”

I can understand something of that feeling.

While the breast cancer threat has disappeared, we no longer have to go to chemotherapy sessions and the imminence of the cancer has seemingly faded; it’s not gone from my mind. I am still worried. I still wonder. When I rub my wife’s head, touching the soft hairs that have grown back in the months since chemo ended, everything seems so peaceful.

Everything seems “over”.

But it’s not and I can’t explain that it’s NOT over to people who only ask occasionally now, “How’s your wife?” Some of it is that I don’t have the time to talk about my fears of MBC or the long-term effects of the estrogen-blocking drug she has to take. Some of it is that I don’t want people to think I’m whining and say, “Oh, get over it! She’s fine now! The drama’s over!”

Some of it is that while the drama isn’t on stage any more under the bright lights and makeup, it continues in the body. It continues in my mind. It makes me say things like, “Liz is three-and-a-half-months cancer-free!” and smile and high five people.

It makes me feel things like I do “not belong here anymore, it is a foreign world...a man cannot talk of such things.” I suppose I’m also afraid that I’m “weird” in that I’m not “over it”; or that someone might just look at me and say, “Man! Get over it!”

I’m pretty sure now, nearly a year after the initial diagnosis, that I will never “get over it.”

And, on January 15, 2022, I haven’t…

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #174! – Man Cancer & The Orchiectomy

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 December of 2011.

So this week I got the news that two good friends of mine have cancer. One has colon cancer and will be undergoing a colECTOMY (ecto = Greek for “to cut out”) during the Christmas season.

The other is twenty-some years younger than me. He was diagnosed with testicular cancer and had a radical orchiectomy after which…well, we don’t know because they are in the specific diagnosis part of his New Normal. He said he’d let me know because I pray well for biological specifics – I can see the parts of the body that are affected – cancer, breaks, dislocations, flu. I am a great prayer for healing of body parts as well as for restoring the heart and mind.

At any rate, some time ago, my wife asked “Why do so many people have breast cancer?” I marshaled statistics in this post: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-do-so-many-women-have-breast-cancer.html

The research led me to the statistics for other kinds of cancer – lung cancer, Liz’s mom died from this; blood cancer (leukemia), the son of close family friends; brain cancer, an old friend of mine died from this at 30; skin cancer, my sister, brother and sister-in-law have this; there are others with other cancers that I don’t care to enumerate at this time.

Testicular cancer has increased by 60% in the past 25 years. Why? Right now no one knows the answer, it just…has.

A student of mine, after we talked about why my wife’s hair all fell out during chemo. I talked about how the chemicals target fast-growing cancer cells – and kill the fast-growing hair cells “accidentally”. She then went on a rave about how we should make drugs that ONLY target cancer cells…and that got me to thinking.

Are all cancer cells created equal? Or are they egalitarian? Is testicular cancer the same as breast cancer? Brain cancer? Lung cancer? Skin cancer?

Questions – and today…no answers. Just more questions that I’m going to try to answer in the future…

(AN UPDATE: THIS FRIEND WHO HAD A RADICAL ORCHIECTOMY AND HIS WIFE WELCOMED THEIR FIRST BORN THIS YEAR!)

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #173! – Days That Changed Life As We Knew It…

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 September 2011.

Ten years ago, we were ten years younger.

Breast cancer was ten years in our future.

My wife was home schooling that day. I was in my science classroom. Melissa Kyle had a social studies room in the science circle and was across the hall and kitty corner to my right.

The sun was shining.

The birds were singing.

It was a stunning September day. More stunning than we expected.

The first hint that anything was wrong was when my wife called to say that Josh had come running up from the basement to say that a jet had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York.

What a naïve statement. That was all anyone knew. “A jet had crashed into the World Trade Center.” Those were the last innocent words of September 11, 2001. Everything changed after that and not one of us has remained untouched; not even my 14 month old grandson. He was born into a world that cringed every time an airplane went off course. He was born into a world where identities are checked, double-checked then checked again. He was born into a world where the nursery was locked, double-locked and then IDs of mother, child, parents, grandparents and everyone else was checked…because you never know.

I KNOW the world has changed again and again and again. “The day that will live in infamy…” changed everything. The assassination of JFK changed everything. The explosion of the first atomic bomb over Hiroshima changed everything. The first heart transplant changed everything. The harnessing of fire changed everything.

We live in a world where something is changing everything all the time.

One hundred and seventy days ago – March 26, 2011 – was the day that changed the life of my wife and the rest of our family. The confirmation of breast cancer forced us to confront something we had heard all about but rarely mattered to us in a deeply personal way.

Nine years and three-hundred and sixty-four days ago, was the day that changed the life of every American (and the families and friends of 372 foreign nationals from 56 different countries). Terrorism was part of the life of every Israeli, every inhabitant of India, every Spaniard, every Iraqui. We knew that, but it rarely mattered to us in a deeply personal way.

On this Patriot Day, I think about the things I know about that don’t matter to me and I will try to care; and I will definitely pray for those whose lives have collided with breast cancer and family loss – and Lupus, skin cancer, CP and autism. Those are the things I can think of.

What can you think of?

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #172! – “What Would Men Like Better: Bigger Boobs Or Nicer Hair?” vs “What if I don’t have either one?”

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 2011…

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…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 appeared in August of 2011.

My wife was watching TV during one of her after-chemo days, when some daytime TV jabber show popped on. I don’t know which show it was (she didn’t say), but subject of discussion was the question above: What would men like better: bigger boobs or nicer hair?”

Now don’t get me wrong, television always goes for the spectacular, often ignoring truth or reality. I KNOW they were trying to get a rise out of the audience, increase ratings and sell Lexuses and tampons. I KNOW they think they’re being cute, creative, and provocative.

This time they ended up being hurtful and in bad taste – I mean “plumber’s butt crack with a bad case of gas” bad taste. And not just hurting feelings, attacking 1 in 8 women in the US (the number who will be diagnosed with breast cancer some time in their lives) or 2.5 MILLION women (who are breast cancer survivors.)

Not only that, it intentionally and maliciously attacks males as being too shallow to see anything beyond boobs and hair – when the simple fact is that most men DO see past boobs and hair.

It’s sadly humorous that were this show to target any other group of people, the American Civil Liberties Union and various other watchdog groups would be all over them.

But because it is attempting to make women with breast cancer who have had their breasts disfigured with lumpectomies; who have had one or both breasts removed by mastectomies; who have lost their hair through chemotherapy or radiation treatments – feel worse about themselves than they already do (and men to feel shallow and self-centered with absolutely no hope of changing) – the show is okey-dokey with its producers, advertisers and media executives (not to mention the show hosts and audience members).

My question then, is this: “What the heck kind of world do we live in?”

I guess the obvious answer is this: “One that doesn’t give a rodent’s waste end about viciously attacking vulnerable people.”

Harrumph…yeah, I’m struggling.

Have a nice day.

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #171! – “Thanks For Your…um…Support”

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 July, 2011.

One of the things I’ve noticed in this ordeal is that huge expectations have been laid on caregivers.

We are to support our women. The doctors, nurses, families and well, everyone, expects it.

Of COURSE I do that with all my strength, heart and spirit! I love my wife! I am pulling for her, cheering for her, weeping with her, listening to her. I am as there as I can be.

Others cast their support as well from intimate family and friends to people she hasn’t heard from in years, all the way to ones with whom she parted ways less-than-happily. People who follow and comment on her Caringbridge blog (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/lizstewart1) are legion.

My question then – and still is – where’s my support?

Of course people support me! Right? OK, to be honest, I was sorta expecting a bit more. Maybe a couple of pats on the back, a chuck under the chin and few words of, “Wow, must be tough for ya, eh?”

That was my expectation. The reality is more like an avoidance reaction. For example, one of the men at school has a wife who is going through breast cancer. They have younger children, so a greater burden has fallen on him than on me with one kid out of the house living his own life and then other starting her third year of college.

But I sorta expected a bit more camaraderie when he told me about it through his email response to my announcement. Instead, we avoid each other and never say a word about breast cancer. Some of the women at school ask about my wife. Lots of them. Many of them. Our church supports her and people ask about her all the time.

But the people I get to thank for their support?

Crickets chirping in the auditorium as I speak into the microphone, “Thank you for your support.

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #170! – David Breasterfield!

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 June of 2011…

I don’t know what it’s like, exactly for my wife, but there are long times now where the idea of breast cancer (and the accompanying metastasis possibility) disappears from my life as if by magic.

Between treatments, which she undergoes every three weeks, life returns to normal. Well, not “old normal”, rather the new normal (see “The World Didn’t Fall Off Its Axis”)…

But during this time, nothing seems to be “different” – we still chat, watch TV, go for walks with the dog, pay bills, see the grandchild, talk to people. Nothing seems to have changed. It’s almost like that magician – David Copperfield – worked his magic on breast cancer and made the whole thing disappear.

And maybe there’s something to be said for that – we’re NOT pretending. I don’t think I could ever do that. But we’re living in the promises of the doctors and the profound hopes of our friends and other women we know who are breast cancer survivors.

 David Copperfield isn’t really a magician, he’s an illusionist, and while we harbor no mistaken belief that the cancer has “disappeared”, it’s sometimes helpful to live in the illusion that the cure is NOW. It’s something that allows us to go on day-by-day. I cannot imagine how terrifying these days just before a chemo session are. But I can help my wife entertain the illusion that she is done with chemo and she has been declared cancer-free.

 Besides – that’s only going to be an illusion for a few more months. By Christmas, Liz will be a breast cancer survivor and THAT will be the real magic!

[UPDATE: And it’s STILL the real magic!]

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #169! – The World Didn’t Fall Off Its Axis

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 May of 2011…

Nine Thursdays ago, Liz had the biopsy that confirmed that she had breast cancer.

I will never forget that day: the blood dripping down the breast; holding Liz’s hand as the dark shadows formed on the ultrasound screen; the needle withdrawing the cells and depositing them in small vials of liquid preservative; the dim light of the procedure room; Liz’s hand squeezing mine; the doctor in gown and mask and goggles; soft words of deep regret…

Everything changed as I walked into the foyer to call my parents; my best friend; my brothers and sister…

Then came the cold rush toward a double mastectomy – nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing COULD ever be the same again.

Outside, it was spring. At work, graduation was weeks away and seniors had to be shepherded; at Liz’s work, kids came down with colds and teachers wondered what was going on for a few brief moments. And then, the surgery was over and we had to wait for the healing until chemotherapy could begin.

Now there are tornadoes everywhere; disasters are being declared; spring has sprung/the grass is ris/there’s no more wondering where the flowers is/they is HERE!

Liz’s breast cancer, for all it knocked our world askew changed nothing else outside of us. The garbage still accumulates, the checkbook still needs balancing and aside from a couple of simple scores we experienced by throwing the “C” word around (speedy delivery of a new washer when Liz shared that we needed it to wash clothing poisoned by chemo leaking out of Liz’s pores – and the scheduler had an aunt who was a breast cancer survivor; and the possibility of Mary using it on an essay for a scholarship for her third year of college).

Our lives are still upside down, but the rest of the world goes on as always.

I’m not sure what I’m learning from that, but I’m going to try and take my lessons from the BEST it has to offer: I need to remain sympathetic to those who suffer disaster, even after it leaves the headlines and falls to the back page; I need to consider those who CANNOT afford chemotherapy; I need to be thankful that we live at the dawn of the second decade of the 21st Century and not the dawn of the second decade of the 20th Century.

Our world is upside down; the rest of the planet is not.

Thanks be to God for that!

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #168! – Bust Drug!

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 2011, not long after my wife’s diagnosis…

Last week we spoke with the oncologist. What the heck is that and why is it called that?

If you’re like me, you’ve been snowed under the uncounted number of fancy terms: mastectomy, oncology, lumpectomy, pathology, chemotherapy, lymphedema and a zillion others.

Now we come to the big O…Why don’t they call it what this person is: a cancerologist? At least I’d understand that! So what’s an “onco”? What’s a “logist”?

My dictionary says this: “1857, coined in English from Modern Latin onco = ‘tumor’, from the original Greek word, onkos = ‘mass, bulk’ + logy = ‘science or study of’”. So an oncologist is someone who studies tumors, masses and bulks.

So I get that, now. What about the other terms? After spending time internet searching every word I didn’t understand, I thought I had things pretty well under control. Then the oncologist tossed out some really, really weird terms: Taxotere + Adriamycin + Cytoxan and the next day, something called neulasta. These are what I’m coming to think of as “bust drugs” – at least as far as I can tell, they’re used to combat any possible cancer that has found its way from the breast and axillary lymph nodes (there are those fancy terms again!) into the rest of the body. A friend of ours had a scare that the cancer cells had broken free of the breast and caused a brain tumor. That wasn’t the case, but she does have lesions on her bones. So I did a little reading on this page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breast_cancer_chemotherapy , then I went to GOOGLE and in the main page, typed “define: xxxxx” and hit enter. You should be able to do this for any of the drugs you’re going to run into during your wife’s breast cancer battle. In Liz’ case:

Taxotere: anti-mitotic chemotherapy medication (that is, it interferes with cell division)

Adriamycin: an anthracycline (a kind of substance that messes up cancer cell DNA) antibiotic…and like all anthracyclines, it works by inserting itself into the cancer cell’s DNA so the cells can’t make new cancer cells

Cytoxan: a cyclophosphamide that has been converted into a non-toxic "transport form". This transport form is a “pro-drug”, subsequently actively transported into the cancer cells. Once in the cells, enzymes convert the drug into the active, toxic form that kills the cancer cell

Neulasta: recombinant human granulocyte colony-stimulating factor (GCSF) analog used to stimulate the bone marrow to produce more neutrophils (white blood cells) to fight infection in patients undergoing chemotherapy

OK – I get some of it now! Sorta wish doctors and clinics would speak in plain English, but then, they wouldn’t sound so…doctoral if they did. Anyway, this made me feel better. Hope it helps you, too!

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg

ENCORE #167! – Observations of A Breast Cancer Husband – AND AN UPDATE Ten-and-a-half Years Later!

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 was the FIRST and appeared on April 9, 2011. Ten years, eight months, and nine days ago…

I wanted to us a blog title that was simple and would pop up on a normal GOOGLE search, but “Breast Cancer Husband” was already taken (http://www.breastcancerhusband.com/ Still around…). So was “Stand By Her” (http://standbyher.org/ Dead link…). I went to those sites, but one has been corrupted by endless spam and the other has been inactive for nearly a year. Another I tried seems full of advertising and another still was a long advertisement for an exercise program developed by a breast cancer husbands’ wife.

So here I am, because I need someone to talk to RIGHT NOW and I want to talk to other husbands, fiancés, and lovers of women with breast cancer.

Our journey is only two weeks old. While my wife Liz knew something was seriously wrong inside of her body, I was clueless. Until two weeks ago, a biopsy at the Breast Care Center at Regions Hospital in Minnesota ( ) confirmed that she had infiltrative ductal carcinoma. It was the most common form of breast cancer. Treatments had been worked out. Research had been done. It is survivable…

A week later, Liz had a bilateral mastectomy.

I’m writing this six days after the surgery.

I’ve searched the internet and I haven’t been able to find an active husband-whose-wife-has-breast-cancer blog that I could chat on. Maybe it’s because their wives have been survivors for years and they can relax, or they can take a step back, or they’re exhausted, or the danger is no longer clear and present.

Not so for me. Based on everything I’ve read so far, this job is only just beginning.

Ah, the name of the blog: I couldn’t call it Breast Cancer Husband, so I went to the thesaurus to look for synonyms and the etymological dictionary for word roots. It all comes down to a “husband” having something to do with farming. Words like cultivate, garden, graze, grow, harvest, landscape, seed, sow, tend and till the soil are all related to “husband”. The word “reap” was in there, too. I finally settled on the most personal title I could find: Guy's Gotta Talk...About...and unfortunately, the blog expanded in subject matter...

At first that didn’t do anything for me, but when I came across “reap”, of course the first thing I thought of was the Grim Reaper. Then my mind went to work, the Reaper’s robe turned pink and I had the image in my head of the Breast Cancer Reaper: cutting down breast cancer, growing hope, harvesting love, creating a new landscape (in more ways that one!), cultivating peace, sowing joy, tending the field, the Garden of Eden, good and healthy eating…

At any rate, this will be a personal blog with medical LINKS – I’m no doctor, though I have been a science teacher for three decades. This blog may wax and wane humorous as well. Humor is how I deal with grief and tragedy (actually, humor is how I deal with just about everything and everyone…)

We’ll see. All I know right now is that my wife has breast cancer, she, my daughter (whose blog links are below), my son & daughter-in-law & grandson and the rest of both of our families and friends, are dealing with this in different ways.

I should be here once a week, probably Saturdays, and my goal will be to provide something that’s short, personal and helpful.

That is all…

But it wasn’t. It never is. Everything changed as we dealt with the disease. I changed and I am not the same man today that I was then. I avoided bitter. I found allies – in my family, my coworkers, and from total strangers.

I would NEVER repeat this again, but once your loved one has been treated and is pronounced cancer-free (and that IS a happy day!!!), BC can and does rear its ugly head again. A man with whom I’d once been in a writer’s group, became one of my most solid anchors as our wives walked through the landscape of this debilitating and hideous disease. His wife is suffering again, now with metastatic breast cancer of the bones (I detail a bit of that here: https://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2021/08/guys-gotta-talk-about-breast-cancer.html).

It is a never-ending battle, a never-ending Sword of Damocles poised over the neck of every person with BC and every one of their loved ones. I pray regularly that a true and lasting cure will be found…

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5527/10893068965_1d328e8f71_b.jpg