Editor’s note: Eleventh in a series. Read earlier parts of Elizabeth’s journey by CLICKING HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE</a, HERE and HERE.
By Elizabeth Warnimont
Special to The Herald
ON AUG. 3, 2012, I WAS DIAGNOSED WITH BREAST CANCER. The following are excerpts from the personal journals I have kept since that time. I hope they serve to shed some light on this difficult subject, and maybe even help or encourage someone facing her own diagnosis or that of a friend. If someone else can learn from my mistakes or be encouraged by my successes, then the journals have served a useful purpose.
Fortunately for me, my story has a happy ending: I am now cancer-free.
Monday, July 8
Time is starting to close in. That’s good. I have waited long enough for this appointment, this chance to hear from another radiologist about my treatment plan. I sure hope he can answer my question. If he feels he would have created a very similar plan, then I will feel much better.
Tuesday, July 9
Jitters. Shingles! Started anti-viral meds Friday.
Very nervous. Not sure why. I know why I’m going, know what I want. Just don’t like driving into San Francisco, especially by myself. And don’t have any idea what kind of doctor he will be — a good communicator? Will I feel like I wasted the time and our good money?
God, please be with me. Hold my hand and my heart. Keep me safe. I do hope this is going to be a fruitful visit. I will keep an open mind. I will do my best to be assertive.
2:30. Wow, lots of information. Very tired. Exhausting day, exhausting trip, exhausting meeting.
(Dr. Meyer at St. Francis Memorial reviewed all of my records and concluded that while the main, 28-day course of treatment was exactly correct, the five-day boost portion, the electron radiation, was entirely unnecessary.)
Wednesday, July 10
Almost time to leave for Toth’s office (the plastic surgeon).
Finding out that the whole boost was unnecessary is disappointing. Big shame, but nothing to be done about it — except to waste time agonizing.
We need to learn these things. When I don’t understand and it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it! Don’t be intimidated!
Good lesson for today’s appointment, although I can’t imagine Dr. Toth trying to talk me into … oh, yes I can. But the thing is, I want what he feels is best for me. Restoration to something that’s as normal as possible.
Better get ready. Going alone.
(The last step in my cancer treatment was the final reconstruction surgery. They would remove the temporary implant that was placed during the mastectomy and replace it with a permanent one. The hardest thing about this part was knowing that after that, things would be as good as they were ever going to get. The surgery would take place Oct. 11.)
Saturday, July 13
I have mixed feelings ever since a few weeks ago. I have a convertible to drive around in. (We needed to get a commuter car for my husband’s new 60-mile commute, so he decided to take the one I was driving and get me a Miata, my dream car, to replace it.) And I got to go to Hawaii after finishing chemo. And now I get to go to Norway!
My friends are no doubt as happy as I am that I have all this after what I’ve been through, not only the cancer treatment but the medical mis-treatment. And losing Muriel right in the mix.
I feel awfully indulgent. But I think God would want me to enjoy it. He delights in blessing us like this. Don’t gloat. But don’t deny yourself the blessings the Lord gave you.
Wednesday, July 17
Thinking about family, and a dream I just woke up from.
In a house, kind of haunted. Family members, but like “Dark Shadows” characters. Ghosts for sure, all of them. Real enough to wreak havoc. Scary apparitions.
One was dark haired, like Morticia from “Addams Family.” She’s the only one I remember clearly now. I wanted to go in and grab a last few things before leaving, even though to do so would certainly mean encountering her. Needed my friend to wait for me in his car, an old classic sedan.
It was like being in a movie. I was taking things like eggs, tea cups. A shirt or blouse, maybe shoes or socks. Salt and pepper! Then I made a dash for the car, leaving the ghosts behind. Woke up thinking about visiting my family.
Well, now it’s 3:00. I thought I could get back to sleep but even though I was drifting a few times, even with all the skills I’ve learned, I haven’t been able.
I really don’t like this, not being able to tell what it is that has me so anxious that I can’t sleep.
Thursday, July 18
Lots of muscle tension today. Many appointments to schedule. Laundry for the trip tomorrow, leaving for San Diego.
Here’s what I scheduled today. Zack’s (my son’s) orientation next Thursday. Finished calendar article to cover the Tuesday I’m out of town. Massage July 30, after San Diego trip and orientation. Venous access port removal in San Francisco on July 31. Cancelled writing group.
Dr. O. Aug. 8. Norway, Aug. 12 to somewhere between the 24th and 26th, to arrive home and be ready for Zack’s move-in day Friday the 30th. Sept. 23 physical with Dr. Bowers.
Read and filled out much paperwork for Oct. 11 surgery. Lots to think about there. Something like 35 percent (of reconstruction patients) end up having repeat surgery. I don’t like that idea either.
Here’s what I’d say to Dr. Toth:
There is a lot to consider. A lot of information to take in. And I hope you will feel all right about my decision. I know you would like the end result to be a close to normal as possible.
I don’t want to alter my left breast. (It is typical to surgically alter the existing breast to more closely match the reconstructed one. That was a very uncomfortable thought for me.) I’m pretty comfortable with things the way they are right now, except for that awful port up against my rib.
I just want to be more comfortable. I want to be a little more like I was before.
Elizabeth Warnimont is a patient advocate and freelance writer specializing in the performing arts.
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