Finally Passing It On

In my post of February 16, 2012, I shared about receiving from a long-time friend of mine, Carol,  a package that contained a letter from her, a small box with a bracelet, and a book (Savoring God).  The bracelet was silver and pink with a charm inscribed with the words "Love Heals."  The letter shared the story of the origins of the bracelet and how it had been passed on from one Christian woman dealing with breast cancer to another to another and then to me.  It was meant to be a visible encouragement to the person who had it at the time in her possession.

The final part of the letter said that Carol believed that there would come a time when I knew who to pass the bracelet to -- and I did . . . this past weekend. I live in a small rural community and am part of a small church. So, encountering someone I would know well enough to know if she would treasure this bracelet and the thoughts that went with it were minimal. Some individuals I knew did get cancer - - - and did pass away; but their cancer was not breast cancer.

Very recently a woman in my church, someone I have known many years, messaged me to say that she might have breast cancer.  Could we talk.  

The end of September I had been asked to share an abbreviated form of my cancer story and how God gave me peace, strength, and encouragement. This was for a group of ladies who enjoy crafting, many of whom are not believers. A few are, like Jeanne. It was because of that talk, Jeanne was motivated to get a mammogram . . . and then why she was moved to ask me to be someone she could talk to.  I was more than happy to say I would.  The main reason why I had chosen to be relatively open about my experience was to be someone approachable.  I didn't feel I had that in my church/community, as no one ever seemed willing to share their experiences, even if their problems were not as "major" as mine. It just would have been nice to have someone to talk things through with sometimes.  My sources ended up being ladies who were friends of some of my in-laws.  We never met -- still haven't -- but they were as close as a FB messager.  

Jeanne did get the report that she has cancer.  I do not know if she knows what stage it is or if two breasts are affected.  I know she is starting with radiation therapy.  

I knew she was the one who would get the bracelet. So, I worked on my letter, using Carol's for some of the information and then adding my own.  I also printed of a pdf version of a pamphlet. I included a copy of the book Savoring God.  I also printed off the blog entry I wrote here after I received the package. 

Monday morning I went down to Rural Services and put the gift bag in Jeanne's car.  Monday evening I saw her at choir practice -- all of it had soooo touched her. She asked if she could hug me . . . there were tears.  I really believe I made the right choice.  We will see what's ahead these next few months.

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My letter:

This letter includes some references from a letter I received from a long-time friend of mine in Maryland, Carol – actually my high school math teacher at the Christian school I attended. She sent a letter, along with a bracelet and book, on February 14, 2012 – about a week before I finally had my surgery. In fact, that week I received another small gift from another long-time friend and former teacher of mine, Renee, at the same school – a heart-shaped mastectomy pillow that was to help me feel more comfortable during healing.  Someone had made one for her, and she wanted to make one for me.  THEN, I received a note from Becky Totman, along with Val’s bear, the one that had become Val’s companion to appointments and treatments. I have since passed on the bear, as it was not something that was limited in how I could pass it on.

The enclosed bracelet predates 2004, when someone purchased it on Ebay as a gift for a friend of hers in Calvert County, MD, when diagnosed with cancer.  This lady wore it through her second cancer diagnosis in 2006. 

In early 2010, that lady passed the bracelet on to her son’s voice teacher, Robin, when she was newly diagnosed with breast cancer.  Robin wore the bracelet often during the various phases of her treatment.  She decided to share her journey using a “Caringbridge Blog” and went on to write a book based on her experience, Savoring God.

During Robin’s treatments, she chose several women from her church to help in her care. One of those women, in January 2011, was diagnosed with breast cancer, and this bracelet was passed to her with the comment that God would show her where to send the bracelet next.  This woman was blessed with a type of early stage cancer that did not require chemo. She had her initial diagnosis and surgery in Maryland before moving to North Carolina, where she had radiation treatments. This lady fully expected that God would put someone in her path in North Carolina that she could encourage by passing along that book and the silver bracelet; but she heard of my friend Carol’s diagnosis in October 2011. (Carol lives in Calvert County, MD.)

Four months later, after wearing that bracelet during the time she had her surgery and then recovery – she did not need chemo nor radiation – she wanted to pass the bracelet on to me.  

The bracelet says, “Love heals.”  I know that my friends Carol and Renee, as well as these other ladies, would echo my thoughts that it is God’s love, expressed through His redemptive work in our lives, that brings our ultimate healing!  It is also a reminder that He surrounds us with loving caregivers along the journey.  As believers, we have hope…. True hope.

Psalm 103 echoes in my mind:

Bless the Lord, O my soul,

    and all that is within me,

    bless his holy name!

Bless the Lord, O my soul,

    and forget not all his benefits,

who forgives all your iniquity,

    who heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit,

    who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,

who satisfies you with good

    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

I’m grateful that you have family, church family, and friends nearby who are already stepping in to demonstrate their care and concern for you.  You will learn, even more than you already do, how powerful the prayers of God’s people are!

When you have triumphantly finished your cancer journey, perhaps you will encounter the next recipient of the bracelet . . . someone who will be encouraged to know God will work through the hard times with her.  I have only known of two other people who have, since me, gone through this battle; but I didn’t feel I knew either well enough to share this message with them and pass the bracelet on. Obviously, God meant it for you. I am sure Carol will be encouraged to know that I have finally passed the bracelet on – not that she ever checked up on me.

With love and prayers,

=

Some added notes:

• It’s worth remembering that although two women may have the exact same diagnosis, they may not get the same exact treatment OR if they do, their bodies might not respond in the same way.  BUT, it’s helpful to know other people’s experiences, as often there are similarities. I didn’t seem to find someone here to share experiences, etc. with. Although I became aware, later on, that at least two or three ladies in our church had had single mastectomies with no radiation or chemo at some point in time, but they kept that to themselves (although two of them were drivers for me AND one had also brought in supper one afternoon because her usual Thursday supper guests weren’t coming.) One other had a single mastectomy, chemo, but no radiation.  My best go-to was a Christian woman – still haven’t met – who is a friend of my sister-in-law’s sister. We are still FB friends. There was a second Christian woman I also became FB friends with. She was a contact through Dennis’s sister Jackie. I don’t want that for you – I want you to have someone local . . . a Christian. I would not normally be one to talk about things like this; BUT, it seemed that if I did, maybe I could be a source of help and encouragement to someone – be the “someone” I didn’t seem to have here.

• It’s worth remembering that treatments improve and change over the years. Yes, it depends on what stage the DRs determine you have; but, I am sure things have improved even since I was at the start of all of this. Make smart choices.

• Like you, I was dealing with tests, “waits,” and plans. For me it was from December into February, with my surgery finally happening almost a month later than initially scheduled.  I went through that Christmas season with a lot of suspicions and a lot of unknowns AND I wasn’t saying a lot about it all until I knew more.  Some people knew what was going on (I was working with Lori Rice then, starting after Christmas break); but I did not put it out to the church as a whole until I knew for sure I had cancer and what was going to be done about it.  

• I am enclosing a copy of my blog entry I wrote about when I got the bracelet. You will see that I struggled for weeks and weeks with even saying the word CANCER. The one lady I shared about had a blog that she turned into a book – not sure I will do that. I do have it saved in an e-blog for two reasons:  (1) So I will remember what God brought me through and what He taught me; and (2) to share at least parts of it with others, which I have mostly done when I share the page(s) of verses. Maybe you will want to do the same, if not an online journal, then a hand-written one.

• In addition to the book by Robin, I am including the PDF copy of a pamphlet another long-time friend (and former teacher . . . same school) shared with me.  Someone had shared it with her when she was dealing with throat cancer.  My sister who has M.S. has also found its points applicable in her own situation and has shared the ideas with ladies’ groups in her church. I think it can also provide some good reading for John.

I already said that I am not a “smother-er” or a “hover-er” or any of that; but I am available to listen . . . to share, as I care – and I remember what I liked as well as what I missed AND what I really didn’t care too much for.  

I am sure I will see you wearing the bracelet occasionally. I didn’t wear it much, but I did keep it in a visible spot on my dresser.

Done! Done

Today was my last trip to Upstate Cancer Center to have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Benjamin. I reached the 10-year mark in taking tamoxifin, the last part of my treaatments, after surgery, chemo, and radiation therapy.  Initially, I was to take the drug for five years, but then research showed a benefit of taking it for seven AND THEN a benefit of taking it for ten years.  Dr. Benjamin teaches at Upstate, and so he definitely has to stay current on his research and studies.  

Initially, all I had to do was travel to the satellite office in Homer, where I went for chemo; but that office was shut down and turned over to Guthrie.  So, I had to go to Syracuse (south side).  I missed seeing my favorite NP, Patty -- although there was one time when she was the NP assigned tor the day in that department.  Aside from Patty, I did have one other NP who did a good job of checking to make sure things were good.  Then I would meet and chat for a few with Dr. B.  I'd leave there feeling confident.  

In 2020 when I went up for my appointment, hospitals and such still required masks in the buildings (from the Covid lockdowns, etc.) and limited where people came into the building.  I donned my trusty purple Aetna freebie mask and headed over to the building, looking for where I could go in.  I entered. A nurse took my temp, and then I had to take one of their masks.  It was a plain bluish disposable mask (never thought those really did anything . . .).  I stuck it on and headed off down the hallway to my wing.  Suddenly, there was a guard behind me. He stopped me and told me my mask was inside out -- not sure how he could tell, but he could.  So, I took it off and reverse it, put it on, and started out. BUT, he stopped me again... My mask was on upside-down.  With my masks I had been using, I never had to think of either of those situations. So, I never thought about how to put my mask on, other than to figure out how to get it affixed to my ears, an area already "full" because of my wearing glasses as well as hearing devices.  Once I took a look at the mask, I saw how he could tell.  There was a small metal-like bar near the top, which I found out eventually, was to help secure the mask a little better to my nose.  This time I got it all right and was on my way.  It was rather amusing, I must say.  One thing I never quite understood was that if they were SOOOOOO careful about germs, etc., why did someone not come over to wipe off the patient seats when a person left ---- OR why there were no spacers.  So many inconsistencies.

When I went back in 2021, the mask rule and limited entrance was still in effect; HOWEVER, this time the mask had the Upstate Cancer Center logo embroidered on the bottom.  Thus, no problems for my getting it on correctly.  

September 2022 has come, and NYS does not require these places to have all people masked.  I did not have to give blood.  I did not have to have screenings beforehand.  Not quite sure why that was . . . I think I could still ask.  Anyhow, because I had reached 10 years with no issues, I was officially released.  Now I am considered as NED -- no evidence of disease.  (It's not 100% accurate to say a cancer person is cured, as there is no guarantee.)  It was great to head out to the sign-out station and not have to schedule an appointment for 2024.  DONE      DONE     DONE

The Interview in the Cortland Standard

 If I can get them pulled up, here is the article written from the interview.  I had to take a picture of it in two parts so that the print might be large enough to read.

An Opportunity to Share

 One reason I kept a written record of my cancer journey was so I could maybe share my experience and encourage someone as a result.

Recently I had a call from my sister-in-law Lori. A features writer from the Cortland Standard was wanting to do a feature on the topic of hope as it relates to cancer survivors.  She asked Lori if she knew anyone who might be willing to be interviewed.  So, Lori called me to ask me if I would consider doing this.  I said that I was willing.  Although it's not me to be so public, I thought that this would be a good thing for me to do.  I had often wished that one of my friends had been more open in her dealing with cancer -- she ended up passing away before I started my battle.

Not too many days later, I received a call from Katie Keyser, the woman doing this feature.  We set up a time for her to come interview me and take some pictures.  

One thing I wanted to be sure to do was to give credit to God for His enabling me to get through my cancer battle as well as I did.  No guarantees, I know, as to what Mrs. Keyser would write afterwards; but at least she would hear about how God gave me peace and kept me from worry.  Actually, that was something that caught her attention. I had printed off the blog entry in which I had written many verses that I remembered and that were shared with me.  They were verses I had on index cards for ready reference  On the sheet I had printed, i had put a red circle beside ones that had been especially meaningful to me.  At the end, I asked her if she would be interested in taking that copy. She had mentioned how she struggled with worry and fear, and so I saw this as an opportunity to give her something to reflect on later. 

I had pulled out my box with my cards, notes, and other items from that year.  The box was one of those fancy ones that Gary and Marilyn had sent me with some treats in it.  The front of it had the Serenity Prayer on it, which Mrs. Keyser noticed.  So, I connected that to what we had been talking about peace . . . about fear . . . about worry.

Things in my box she found interesting -- and took pictures of -- were some of the notes/cards my second graders had made for me.  There also was a Bible study book written by a woman who had had breast cancer to encourage other women who had it.  There was a bracelet with the breast cancer symbol on it that my friend had sent, along with the book.  She took pictures of me as well.

I think the article, which will feature one other woman, will be out in early October.  October is "Breast Cancer Awareness Month."  It will be interesting to see what makes it into the article.

God's Goodness

These past few days I have been reminded of God's goodness to me when I was actively battling my cancer.  I doubt I am the only one who takes for granted good fortune.

Early Saturday morning, a young seven-year-old boy we know,  died due to surgical complications.  Last week this young boy was diagnosed with leukemia.  Friday's surgery was to put a port in him to use for needed treatments for his leukemia.  He ended up dying from internal bleeding that occurred after the surgery  It was a known risk at the outset; but like most who deal with cancer, it is a risk you take without a lot of thought. 

Initially I did not give this much thought.  But when my husband and I were talking about the events of Saturday -- I had been out of town for a few days and he was bringing me up to speed on thing here at home -- he made this comment, "You had a port put in, didn't you?"  I said that I had -- he had been there at the time.  I am not sure that he was familiar with what a port looked like and how it is put in, other than making an incision.  I said to him that I could understand a problem arising, as a port has a small tube that is inserted into a vein near the neck.  It works better in situations in which a person will get a lot of needle-jabbing over a period of time.  For me, it was for my chemo; but I also had the medical staff do blood draws there.  It is meant to save on the veins in the arms.

My port was inserted by a surgeon when I was sedated.  Before I was released to go home, my surgeon had a portable x-ray machine brought to the room.  He wanted to see that everything was looking right with that port before he let me go home.

Was there a risk to me in having a port put in?  Yes.  Did I know that?  Yes.  I had to sign off on the procedure.  Did I give any thought to the possibility that there would be complications?  No.  I think that most of us fall into that line of thinking -- unless we are, by nature, worrywarts. 

I look back at my surgery, implant of my port, chemo, radiation . . .  I really was fortunate to get through it all without any real complications.  I really ought not take that for granted.  God was good to me, and the past few days have been a good reminder of that.

Talan's dad and Dennis have been good friends for years, and so this has been a bit difficult for Dennis.  He can't begin to answer the questions TJ puts to him, as it related to life after death.  I am sure that this will be a point of discussion for weeks, even months, to come.

Milestones

Milestones are goals achieved as a cancer survivor gets farther and farther away from when the journey all began.

I remember thinking at the outset that it seemed all I was doing was adding doctors, having tests, and traveling to appointments.  There was the ob-gyn lady, the mammo lady, the ultrasound lady, the MRI guy, surgeon, the oncologist, the chemo people, the radiation people . . . you get the drift.  Week after week after week, that was all part of my life, starting the end of November 2011 and ending about the middle of October 2012.  The completion of radiation therapy was my first major milestone.  Aside from hormonal therapy (pills), I was done with my vigorous battle with this disease.  I had recovered from my surgery.  I had made it through chemo.  I had finished radiation.

So, what milestones have I reached?

By the end of 2012, I was seeing my surgeon only twice a year.  Getting my port out was the last "invasive" thing he did.  By 2013, I was switched to once a year.  Not sure if I will go back this year or just figure I am done.  My NP at the oncologist's office says that surgeons like to keep tabs on people like me for five years.  To me, it seems that all Dr. Bang checks for is lymphedema and how much I weigh.  Anything else he does, the NP does at the oncologist's office.

January 2013 I was told that if things were good January 2014, then I was done at the radiation oncologist's, since I had other medical people watching out for me.  Dr. Fallon was good.  I never felt hurried when he met with me.  I will always remember what a great waiting area there was:  Keurig machine, electric fireplace, tv, jigsaw puzzle, lots of space.  This office gave its patients $25 gas cards to help with travel expenses.

In the fall of 2014, I changed from every three months' appointments with my oncologist to every six.  My next goal is the yearly plan.  I know that as long as I am taking HT, then I will have to see my oncologist.  The "sad" thing, though is that this month, the Homer office closed.  To keep with Dr. Benjamin, I will have to travel to Syracuse.  Because I think he is very good AND because I like the NP (Patricia), I will travel up there.

Here's looking to the time when I will reach that last milestone -- no more oncologist appointments.

My New Reality

It has been quite awhile since I last blogged here.  That would be because life has gotten more normal, now that I am almost two years in remission from my battle with breast cancer.  My three-month checks with my oncologist have been uneventful.  My checks with my surgeon have been uneventful, becoming annual checks as of my last visit.

So far, so good.  I am tolerating the side effects of the tamoxifen fairly well.  I figured out that about two hours after I take my doses, one in the morning and one in the evening, I have a time when I am warm and perspiring.  Once that is past, I am good for the rest of the day or night,  My stiffness in my joints I am not sure are a side effect, as it could be my age . . . it could be my genetics, as I have parents with arthritic issues.

Before my most recent oncologist appointment, August 25, I had noticed a small lump just below my scar and just off the center of my chest to the left -- the area where I had the nastier problems to deal with.  The small mass was soft.  I could not feel any hard areas.  I knew that I needed to be sure my oncologist was aware of this, as I seem to be a marvel at growing things -- some harmless and some not.

Both the NP as well as oncologist checked it out and thought that this was not anything serious; however, with my cancer issues in that area, they both thought that I should get it checked out further.  I agreed.  It made sense to be as sure as possible.

I really was not unduly concerned about this mass, and so I did not spend time fretting nor did I lose sleep over it.

Two days later, I had an ultrasound on that area.  That went well.  It seemed odd to be there in that place, as last time I had been there was when I was there in December 2011 for those images which first showed that I had a problem.  That time, the technician had come back in to get more images, as she was sure the radiologist would want more.  This time, there were no extra images taken.  I took that as a good sign.  I would hear the results from that test after Labor Day.

Later that day I received a phone call from my NP.  The radiologist was not ready to give me clearance.  He made several suggestions as to what to do next -- CT scan, MRI, and/or biopsy.  My oncologist chose biopsy.  Because of Labor Day and my not wanting to miss the first day of school, the biopsy was scheduled for September 4.

I did wonder if it would be the same type as last time.  Would it be a simple fine needle aspiration OR would it be one of those core needles (ultrasound guided)? That type was not at all comfy, as each time before when the doctor was going for samples, it felt as if I was being shot by a staple gun.  Multiple samples were taken.

This time I again found it all so surreal -- same nurses as before, same information, same room.   I was familiar with it all because I had had this done before.  My one saving feature was that I figured it would not be as painful this time because so much of the area around my scar is still numb.  So, although I might smart slightly in spots, I probably would not hurt afterwards like last time.

I had another preliminary ultrasound.  The doctor gave me a numbing shot -- not that I felt much of it.  Then he got to work and took three samples.  Because of the size of it, he was able to go through the same small hole each time.  So, patching was minimal.  I had taken the day off school because I knew that I needed to take it easy the rest of the day.

Yes, I did share my situation with some friends so they could join me in prayer about this.  No, I did not lose sleep over this.  I had remembered comments made at the biopsy that made me think things were well . . . . that they, too, thought this was more precautionary than anything else.

I had an appointment to hear the results September 8.  BUT, the results were not yet in.  I had to wait another day.

I came home from school Tuesday to a phone message from my NP that she had good news to share about my results.  I called -- benign mass.  YES!  

I realize that this is my new reality, though.  Anytime I develop some type of mass, no matter how small, it will be checked out to be sure no cancer is starting up again,  I am all right with that.  I realize that can happen.  I also realize that the sooner something cancerous is dealt with, the better the outcome.

The other good news I received was that I now was going to be on a six-month plan for my appointments rather than three.  YEA!!!!!