DAIRY QUEEN, DIAPER RASH OINTMENT AND RANCH DRESSING

I have had cancer. Breast cancer. It’s not uncommon anymore, in fact I know many people who have had a form of cancer. Some much worse than I had and I feel very lucky to have come through the way I did. I don’t talk about it very much anymore because it just seems like it was such a long time ago. 

I was diagnosed February 6th of 2006, just when life was really starting to take a really new and exciting turn! My girlfriend (now wife) and I were talking about living together, combining households and maybe buying another house together. She had just taken a new position with her company that was farther away from home, but a promotion. We had had some rough patches and things were moving in the right direction. My son was 16 at the time and he was getting his life on track and living with his dad.

I remember where I was specifically when I got the call. I was making a delivery to a trucking company and was waiting for my turn for the loading dock. I remember not being particularly worried about the biopsy they had done after my mammogram a week earlier. The results were sent to my OB/GYN so she was the one that called me. I had been seeing her for probably 15 or so years so we knew each other well. She was very gentle, kind and just said the biopsy result had come in and it was cancer.  Stage 1, small but very aggressive. I took the news as if someone was reading back my lunch order to me, hmmmm ok. What now? My doctor gave me a couple of names to start with and we said we would chat later. I went in to make my delivery.

As soon as I could, that afternoon, I called the surgeon whose number I had been given and I called the oncologist. I made an appointment for the following week. The breast cancer surgeon was very non-chalant gave me all the reading material and conveyed that he did many of these types of surgeries; this was run of the mill. Not to worry, so I didn’t. If I am anything, it’s tough and I was tackling this as I had tackled no other.

I had already scheduled my annual beach trip with my son and since the doctor said a couple weeks would not make that much difference I went and enjoyed my time with my son. I would be lying if I said I didn’t think this might be the last time I did this with my kid. After all, it is a cancer diagnosis; its anyone’s guess what the future looked like. The doctors all had a positive outlook and I tried to take that as well.

When we returned home from vacation, I had my surgery to remove the tumor, a 2mm size tumor, very small and very high up in the armpit. A simple lumpectomy near my left armpit, which left a 2-inch scar. This has since made all of my mammograms very difficult, trying to get a picture of the surgery area. They had to take a lymph node to check that for cancer there and my recovery time was a couple of weeks.

Sometime in March, I started chemotherapy. I remember it as being about 2 weeks after surgery. I opted to not have a port put in, as I get very queasy about such things and while the needles and iv’s they used were no picnic it was better than having to look at a port day after day for 4 months. I was only going to have chemo once every two weeks, so just 8 times. This was doable I thought. My girlfriend adjusted her work schedule to have my chemo days off, so she could go with me. 

Chemo: the flavor of everything changes, you have a constant upset stomach and you lose your hair. There was an odd smell about everything. This smell came back every March for years, seeming to remind me of where I had been. The only thing that made me feel better was ranch dressing. I ate it on everything. I remember walking to the store one day; I wasn’t able to drive on chemo weeks, getting the cheap chicken tenders in the bag, ranch dressing and that was lunch. It wasn’t very healthy but it sure made my nausea go away. I could only have a quarter cup of coffee because of the acid and even water tasted bad. But I had to get the liquids in to make everything flow out. I won’t go into the details of how it feels to have chemo leave your body, but let’s just say if it burns going in, it’s going to burn going out. If you are going to have chemo treatments get some good diaper rash ointment, because you are going to need it. I have given that tip more than once to people that were going to have treatment.

It was by the second treatment, I had asked a hairdresser friend to cut my hair, give me a buzz cut. I knew I would lose my hair and I wanted it as short as possible for two reasons. One so it would be less mess later on and two to get used to super short hair. I started wearing hats occasionally as well.

It was after the third treatment my hair started falling out.  I was home and my son was over for the weekend. I was feeling bad and sometimes was getting dizzy. So I asked my son to come be in the bathroom while I took a shower in case I fell. He did it, I am sure it was not his favorite thing to do, but he knew I needed him. It was then that I realized my hair was coming out and not just a little bit. So, when I got out of the shower, dried and got dressed, I had him shave my head with a mini beard trimmer. It was his 17th birthday. What a mess it was, all of this fine little hair everywhere. He and I had always been close but this topped it all. 

For most of the treatments, it was my girlfriend and I, some visits were so long and most were challenging. I had to have Ativan for every treatment prior to leaving the house. I could work myself into fainting very easily.  On more than one occasion, it was a 10-12 hour treatment.  The chemo is so intense that they have to give you Benadryl for the allergic reaction and having a lot of Benadryl makes you jumpy. Often it’s doing one treatment and then having to take something more to counteract another. One of the drugs was red and for the longest time it stained my vein. Another one of the drugs was mustard gas, same as they used in WWII, I couldn’t figure out why my eyes were always watering until I looked it up. These drugs were no joke. I am glad that they have been able to improve them for people battling cancer now.

My oncologist was awesome. I still go see her even though I don’t have to. We would always try to guess what color of outfit she would be wearing, anything to keep my mind off what was happening. It worked; I just went to see her this past summer and wondered what she was wearing.

Near the end of June, I finished my treatments. My company only gives you 90 days before you lose your position and I couldn’t afford to lose my route. It was a good one close to home and good customers. Luckily, I had some good people on neighboring routes and they were there to help pick up my slack if I got too busy. So I worked one week and was sick for the next. That part was a lot of work. The up/down of it. Getting notes from the doctor, making the submissions to insurance, but it was the way it had to be done, as I had no idea how long it would go on and I still had to do radiation. I was happy to get back to full time. Though tired, I felt my body aching for activity. The steroids had made me puffy and swollen; getting some exercise was a definite must. I had resisted moving around on the weeks at home toward the end. I was exhausted. It felt like I was trapped in my body and couldn’t move. I was just watching all of this activity go on around me. It was eerie because I didn’t feel like I had enough energy to participate, so I sat there.

During my chemotherapy I had several friends help, some brought us food. I was fine eating my chicken and ranch, but on the weekends when my son was over was when they brought things he might like. I had people offer to come and sit with me and watch movies, I mostly declined those offers. It was exhausting to entertain and that’s how it felt to me. I didn’t want to keep up a conversation or have to help anyone feel better about my situation. I was doing ok and the days passed easily. I have taken a bit of my own advice when I am helping others in similar situations. Tell them you are coming over with food or to do a chore, do it and leave. They want to heal not entertain. It was very hard to ask for help and food, but it was a lesson I needed to learn and re-learn even now. 

The beginning of August I started my radiation. My first and only tattoos! I show them proudly. The one I see every day is right on my chest bone, between my breasts and the other is in my armpit. These were the marks for getting the radiation just right. Thirty-seven visits, Monday – Friday. I worked the whole time and just left early from my job. Each visit was about 5 minutes; it took me longer to get to the office to do the radiation! Large radiation machines swirling around overhead and large flat screen right above me. I remember watching the kids’ movie Madagascar and wanting to watch it in its entirety, I never have. The table was cold every time. There I lay, shirt off, arms over my head, freezing watching cartoons. My reward some days was ice cream from Dairy Queen on my way home. 

It was about that time my hair started coming back in. You know that old man cactus? That was what my new hair looked like. Fine, peach fuzz and white, it eventually came back, thin, but more gray and curly than it had been. My hair has never been the same, thin and sparse, oh well there are worse things.

I have had a couple scares in the last 13 years. Two biopsies, both were negative. Every mammogram I go to I think about those biopsies, this monkey will likely be on my back forever but I don’t need to let it rule me.  

I have a different outlook on life now. In the days of my diagnosis and treatments, I saw my life pass before me very slowly. What had I done?  What was I going to do? And what was I going to change? I can say that when I get off track now I remember those days of sickness and what I wanted to do when I got better. The farther away I get, the harder it is to remember. 

I belong to a club now, one that has too many members. But I made it, with help. I wear my scar and my radiation tattoos as badges of honor. 

I don’t get scared of getting cancer again, if I had to do it all over again I know I could!