The Long Run Or...From Hills to Vale and Back Again

OK..... I'm in it....For It.

If I can endure 1 year, or 7.5 miles of the flattest of the flat, the straightest of the straight, I can do (runwalk) anything!



Reminds me of my first Mastectomy.



 

Remember....I was used to this:

Trail Hills

Me before mastectomy

This week I made it over a "couple of humps".  Sunday, I ran that FLAT terrain while on vacation the day after a "full" day at the beach (with my breast friends).  Then, on Tuesday,  I made it over the 10 mile long run milestone.  It was an interesting phenomenon.  On Monday I was having some shin/leg pains and I was saying to my Ultra Trail Running Training  Partner, Jack: "Jack,  I'm just not sure if I'm "cut out" for this running business."  He replied with, of course, a quote from Ultrarunner extraordinaire, Scott Jurek, "Not all pain is significant". Hmm.  (Damn you psychologists!) (Hey, there's a cant in significant, weird).

Well, on Tuesday my friends and I "set" out for a 9-10 mile long run and I'll admit I felt pretty horrible for most of the run.  (Hey, It's hot here, and I'm fat... wah).  I considered the Jurek quote several times during the run. We ended up completing the 10, extremely slow,  miles.  I felt happy to be done.  Where the phenomenon came in was later in the day when my leg pains had resolved, and I felt better than I have since before my breast reconstruction surgery.  It gave me an extra "boost" when my co-workers asked me how far I had run that morning and I "beamed" as I said 10 miles!  I realize I still have a long way to go with my training, but at least I've "built" a bit of a base, and I'm ready to PUSH it UP from here.  Any and all training TIPS are welcomed!

As you can see, I'm spending "equal parts" of my time preparing for the NYC marathon, and my Boob Debub Celebration.   (Trust me, I'm not "padding" the stats here.)

I hope many of  you will be able to participate!




Be Superfluous.
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"Do NOT paint a bicycle" or Elusive A-1

A few weeks ago when I began researching “How to Write a Book”, I found it hilarious that the first thing I found on my Google search was the exact same recommendation that Richie had had found several years ago, when he had researched… “How to Paint a Bicycle”.    The first and foremost instruction was,  1.)  “Do NOT paint a bicycle”.  Then it went on, “But if you must…” followed by a list of other things that must be done with descriptions of how it will all go wrong if you choose to ignore instruction #1.  The information I found in my search was at least as limiting and equally as likely. (You know, things like, it’s a waste of time, you’ll never finish, and it will only cause heartache).  Later that week, I randomly stumbled on something written by Alan Ginsberg titled: “On How to Write”. Each section of discussion included a list of quotes by writers and philosophers.  One of the quotes that struck me the most was by Poet, Ezra Pound…  “Direct Treatment of the ‘Thing’ ”.  It was within the section of discussion called “Plan…or…Method”.  I immediately began thinking how Radiation is the part of this Method (the oncologists treatment plan) that is the direct treatment of the thing/cancer.  (The chemotherapy was “regional” and the surgery was “local” to use some of my oncologist’s favorite terminology.  During the radiation, they shoot very carefully calculated beams, or “tangents”,  of radiation, directly at the tissues that are considered at risk for recurrence. )               I then wondered if Mr. Pound had ever had radiation treatment. 

This week I’ve had another head-on collision with my frienemy  “The Method”. 

The week started off pretty well.  Each day, as I had planned for my personal entertainment, I had taken note of what was different about treatment each day:  One day I got a nice text from a friend, and one day I noticed in the background, the song “if you like Pina Colada’s”, which reminded me of a conversation that Richie and I had recently had on a beautiful day on the beach at the coast.  Another day, I noticed that the photo on the ceiling in one treatment room had a boat in the river and the same photo in the other room had no boat.  Yes, that did creep me out.  And the sounds of banjos did enter the mind.  One day I was 5 minutes late, and then had a 45 minute wait due to the earlier power outage that was due to the huge rainstorm that we finally had.  Each day, I tried for the A-1 locker on which I had set my sights, but the key was always gone.   By the third day, I began to wonder if someone before me had put their sights on the A-1 just as I had, and had decided to take it as their own.  I was then disappointed that I had chosen such an average goal.   By the 5^th day, I just couldn’t let it go and I tried opening the A-1 without the key.  It opened, and there was nothing in it.  Had someone gone so far as to take the key?

Then the collision happened. During discussion with the Radiation Oncologist at my weekly appointment, it became fairly clear, that once again, I will likely not get things my way.  Sometime  after my oncologist had told me that reconstruction would be 6-8 months after the mastectomy and radiation, I met with the Plastic Surgeon for a consult.  I was not happy at all with this 6-8 month suggested waiting period.  We ended up primarily discussing the DIEP reconstruction procedure for reconstruction, because I was SURE that it was what I wanted.  Remember? The Genius idea of moving the fat from the abdomen to create breast mounds? And not interfering with any muscle?  Well, I do still believe it is a genius idea, but now that I’ve had the first mastectomy, I’ve all but ruled it out due to the severity of the surgery. The single mastectomy was much more painful and difficult to recover from than I had expected. I’m not even fully recovered as I speak. So, I’ve decided that I would not like to attempt to have 3 incisions all at once.  When discussing the DIEP procedure, in which the reconstruction is supported using blood supply re-routed from the abdomen (which has not been radiated), the plastic surgeon had mentioned that he could perform that surgery within 6-8 weeks of the radiation.  So, that’s what I’ve been thinking and planning despite what the oncologist had originally stated when considering standard saline implants (6-8 months).  I have really wanted to get on with this treatment and have it all completed so that I could move forward with my life, so my mind attached itself to the 6-8 WEEK scenario. The part that I forgot was that I have pretty much chosen to change reconstruction procedures.  Whatever I will end up having done now, will be using the blood supply from the area of the previously radiated tissues, not fresh re-routed tissues. Therefore, when discussing my post radiation plan, the radiation oncologist mentioned that the plastic surgeon would not touch me earlier than 6 months after radiation.  He also said he’s seen others’ try it sooner and the tissues/reconstructions have failed!

So, Dear Method, you have won again.  I will follow instruction #1, and I will Not Paint THIS Bicycle (right now).  But, after merely one (more) evening of feeling sorry for myself, I’ve chosen to look at what the positive options of waiting for this reconstruction could be.  I’ve decided that I could possibly squeeze in a 50 mile run between recovery from radiation and the future mastectomy and reconstruction.  This surgery might even have to wait for me! 

Photo from David's Confusing Blog. Grand Canyon. Please read David's blog on his completion of the epic R2R2R run!

http://youareconfused.blogspot.com/id's

This will give you an idea of what i'm talking about. :)

P.S. !!! To anyone playing me on Words With Friends!  My apps are down!  both the paid for and the free versions no longer working.  I'm not ignoring you or resigning!  If anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know!!! (i've already tried re-syncing but that's all).

Emily

Words With Friends

Phase II: Words With Friends: Phase III

It seems that my life has become (become?) somewhat of a roller coaster.  I have recently thought how my close friends must think, “what could happen next”, or even be tiring of the drama.  Others who know me a bit less intimately might even think that some of the things that have happened/or are happening in my life are fictitious, or possibly real only in my mind.    I suppose, even I, believe the latter to be true to some extent. 

With that said, I will recount this very odd week.

The last big news was the outstanding MRI results that I posted from my phone last Friday (3/4/11).  There is no sign of cancer at this time in either breast per MRI.  I thought it very interesting that all the men that I told these results to had the initial thought…”You’re done then….don’t go back to that place.”  I truly enjoyed indulging in that thought.  I can see it.  The surgeon and all the nurses scrubbed up wondering where the patient was. The oncologist’s office calling me months down the line to see what had happened to me, and me finally responding simply… WHuT?  What Cancer?  (Wha ha happen wuz……that chemo….it took that canca…) Despite this intrigueing idea, that 30% recurrence rate without radiation, with my particular aggressive type of cancer, kept creeping back into my mind.  Like Cancer can do.  So, I did go ahead and go back to my appointment this week.  I did, however, get out of doing the 30 minute dose of Herceptin this week merely by enduring 30 hours of puking and diarrhea between Sunday and Monday. The doctor simply didn’t want me in the infusion room with the other folks with low blood counts.   Funny how 23 weeks of Chemotherapy and months of stressful situations could not make me lose my appetite, or bring me to the porcelain God, but a classroom full of puking toddlers with a rampant virus could.

Fortunately for me, between my extremely stressful Tuesday and “Retching” Sunday Night, lied the interesting, and fun at times Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.  Wednesday, I did have to leave work early to pick up my puking toddler (hence the horrible Sunday Night) out of a roomful of other puking toddlers, and then go spend an hour and a half with the Radiation oncologist, but Mom made a rush trip down to help us out on Wednesday night so we wouldn’t have to take off Thursday.  Wednesday also happened to be our 12^th Wedding Anniversary.  We almost blew off dinner due to overwhelming situations, but I was glad we didn’t. Richie surprised me with a gift of his Grandmother’s Wedding Ring.  It is very beautiful, and I’ve never had anything like it.  I don’t really need anything like that, but it’s true that “Sparkle” is my favorite color.  And that, it does.  It did brighten my day and my week.   I do want to note also that I do like the radiation oncologist.  When I mentioned the DIEP reconstruction surgery to him, he did say ..”are you sure you have enough there? ( on the downtube?) “you look pretty thin to me”…Some of these doctors know the right thing to say.  Anyway, after long discussion with my new friend, he said that we COULD do the reconstruction at the time of surgery then radiation but that he thinks the outcome would be best if we waited.   The next day I called my buddy Ned (Plastics) and he too said that we COULD do it, but he thought that I would be happiest with the outcome in the LONG RUN if we waited.  The fact that this guy, who I believe to be on my side, said this, along with encouragement that I received from a woman who I had the opportunity to meet this week, who is my age who and who is currently 5 years out with similar cancer and same post op reconsruction, that I should be starting to prepare for the fact that I WILL LIKELY be ALIVE in 5 years.  The ODDS ARE that I will be alive in 5 years, and she recommended I get the best reconstruction I can get, which would mean waiting.  So with all the information I felt I needed on board, I decided to again stick with the method…or, the way of the oncologist, and keep the scheduled, surgery only, on the 21^st of March.

Thursday, I got to go see Downtube Shifter play at a Parking Lot Party, but the cool part of that was watching my son eat cake and slide down a huge bouncy slide.

Friday I felt pretty good.  In the morning, I jogged for 30 minutes and had my first of what I might call a RBC (red blood cell) spurt. Only lasted About 10 minutes, but I liked it. 

 In the afternoon I got the great MRI news, then in the evening got to go out to dinner with my friends from work, eat guacamole, then go see Richie’s  Band. 

 I had a great time until about 11:00 pm when I realized I had overdone it and hurt pretty bad that evening and most of the next day. 

Sunday morning started out great again.  75 minute trail run! and tacos! with my good friend Cindy R. who is the one who introduced me to the “Words with Friends” and Scrabble on my IPhone. 

Wait, that's Ace, and that was in the afternoon. Kinda looks like Cindy from begind though.

Watch out for that Crevice son!

Anyway, I mentioned in a previous entry how my grandparents loved crossword puzzles, but I was no good at them, so I did, can’t remember what I said, but… something else.  Anyway, now I can say Words with Friends, or Scrabble.  I do suck at this too, but it is much easier than crosswords and you can still be an idiot about current events and be entertained.  And you can pretty much make stuff up, which I like doing. My whole week has pretty much been “Sprinkled”  (Think… sugar cookie candy balls, or sparkly colorful sugar…) with this new found addiction.  My favorite is to have a little time with the words with my morning coffee.  (Oh my god, I AM my grandparents). Anyway, the gift of this simple time passer, or mind blocker has been more helpful for me in the past 2 weeks than Cindy, or anyone might be able to know.  So, in memory of this special gift from my friend (and some of you think I am being fecicious sP?   But my friend Cindy knows I’m being serious)…I’m going to refer to this extremely difficult period between phase II and Phase III (Surgery) as “Words With Friends”.  Due to this, I’ve made it a point, also, to share a few extra words, or moments with some of my friends, prior to phase III.   Wanna Play?

Just ask for a game with Powerhowell.

Phase II Round 9: The Downtube Shift

Phase II  Round 9: The Downtube Shift

It’s funny to me, that yesterday, when i told my friend Cindy R. that my blog page was up and running, she said ... “You know I was going to ask you early on if you would consider a blog, but figured that you would... I interrupted, and said... “That I would find it stupid or dorky”....Ahh you know me too well. J  See, this is the kind of thing that Cancer, and all if the bullshit that goes along with the treatment, will force one into. I mean, allow one opportunity for change.

It IS true that I have not been a big fan of the word blog.  In my mind it's always been blahg.  As in blah blah blahg.  Not far from Seinfeld’s yadda, yadda, yadda.  You know, the unnecessary crap, in-between the actual points.  The stuff one would just as soon skip over.

Possibly not unlike: the bloody nose that won’t quit, the decline of fine motor control, and the rise in bone pain, the painful toenails, and the thickening, curling fingernails,  the unreasonable intercourse, chronic bowel issues, and cracking earlobes,  the muscle spasms and severe fatigue,  and, the numbness in the feet and hands.   The crap that just IS, in between chemo treatments, doctor’s visits, and life.  I’m weak, I’m tired, and frankly, when my son reminded me this weekend… “Mom, we still have you”, and, as I was responding....”Please hold on tight Son, I’m gonna need it!,… I began to realize that I am a bit scared, that much more anxious, and would just as soon skip over this stuff all together.

Hence, the BLOG.   The physical construction/design of the blog page itself did help me through at least 12 full hours of ignoring this situation while pretending to focus directly upon it.  Now that I am an official blogger, I can admit that I have read a few blogs and enjoyed them.  Then again, I'm still not on Facebook, so my experience in snooping, electronically, into others' POSTED lives is somewhat limited compared to the average 21st century person.  I must also admit the thrill I experienced when my page clocked its 100th view.  Even though it was by me, and likely at least 50 or so of the other hits were me, as well. 

Today is the 9^th round of the (T-H).  Only three to go.  I can see a flicker at the end of the tunnel.

Yesterday I had a consult with a plastic surgeon Ned Snyder, M.D. to discuss reconstruction after bilateral mastectomy.  I mentioned last week, the D.I.E.P. reconstruction surgery that I was interested in. They use the fat and skin from the abdomen and shift it upward to form breast mounds. They do not cut or move any muscles. 

http://www.snyderma.com/Breast.htm 

Dr. Snyder is one of, I believe, 3 people in Austin who perform this surgery.  The consult was overwhelming, yet entertaining.  I was impressed by the doctor.  Doctor Ned Snyder and his wife Renee have their practice together.  She is a dermatologist, and he is a plastic surgeon.  I’d been to their office before to see Renee and was very impressed by her.  She’s not only nice, and smart, and naturally beautiful, but I must say she had a nice figure.   Richie had referred me there after he had a surgical removal of skin cancer on his face.  He liked Ned. “That guy has his shit together”.  Richie thought that I ought to check to see if Ned did this surgery. “Did you notice how beautiful his wife was?”  Even before I was able to check it out, the Nurse Practioner had given me a list of recommended Plastics guys with Dr. Snyder’s name on it, so I went ahead and made an appointment for a consult.  Like I said, I liked him.  Maybe it was because, when I disrobed for the exam, he said, “oh, you are pretty thin”.  J You know me, I immediately thought, “This guy really knows how to flatter a girl”.  Then he said, “You have “D” Cups, but you have a “B” belly.” 

Really? 

Initially, I thought this was another compliment, and further attempt to inveigle me to become his patient.  But then, I realized that really there should not be a cup size on the Downtube.  The long of the short of all of this is that, while I do have a cup size where one shouldn’t, it is not quite enough to fill the cups that Richie was hoping for.  So, I said, “But what about all this stuff on the side and back??”  Apparently they can’t use that right away for some reason, but after 6-8 weeks they might be able to suck some of that out and inject it where we want it.  I’m really unclear on how that works, or if it is a temporary fix.  To me, it seems that if that worked, that would eliminate the need for implant augmentation, for everyone, but the thinnest people. 

While I have the infusion today, I have my appointment with Dr. Sandbach, the Oncologist, tomorrow due to his schedule.  I’m hoping to begin work on a plan for the timeframe of the surgery, etc.  At this point it is looking like end of March, or beginning of April.

This week was not all bad.  I did get to go out to see a trail that I have wanted to see since I heard about it back in August, just before my diagnosis. It’s out off of 2222.  It’s been called The Stairway to Hell.  While the stairs were a challenge, the view at the top, or near the top, was beautiful. I also I enjoyed jogging and talking with a couple of Tejas Trails women, Alicia and Diana, that I had not run with before.  On Sunday, Richie and I took Adaline and Ace down to the Greenbelt near our house.  It was a beautiful day.  Ace proceeded to jog, yes actual jog, for at least 10 minutes.  He was pacing himself like a champ.  It was so cute.  He even tripped over a rock once and I reminded him to lift his feet, and he did.