Hi DL,
I highly recommend having your target tattoo eventually embellished to become either the Swiss Flag, an oval containing the letters CH, or a French fleur-de-lis. Ooo, maybe a quill and ink pot or a lap top and mouse? The ideas are endless!
Other ideas off the top of my head? Other suggestions welcomed.
A book
A Japanese Chin
A violet (my favorite flower)
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A firm date
June 15th I start radio.
Meanwhile I've been scanned on my tummy (the board was a pretty pink) and on my back, have had red lines drawn on me and given four mini tattoos. Now I can't imagine ever getting one. Four points was enough.
Meanwhile I've been scanned on my tummy (the board was a pretty pink) and on my back, have had red lines drawn on me and given four mini tattoos. Now I can't imagine ever getting one. Four points was enough.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Baring the breast
I was skyping with a friend in the states. "Let me see your scar," she said.
I angled my boob to be picked up by the webcam. When I was once again modest, it dawned on me that my door was open and number 2 son was in the house. Glad he didn't come in during my display.
Talking about the tattoo that I will get on my breast, my housemate offered to show me hers. Unfortunately, we couldn't distinguish it from a couple of freckles although she suspected it was the tiniest.
I've spent more time thinking and showing my breasts in the last few weeks than the last few years together.
I angled my boob to be picked up by the webcam. When I was once again modest, it dawned on me that my door was open and number 2 son was in the house. Glad he didn't come in during my display.
Talking about the tattoo that I will get on my breast, my housemate offered to show me hers. Unfortunately, we couldn't distinguish it from a couple of freckles although she suspected it was the tiniest.
I've spent more time thinking and showing my breasts in the last few weeks than the last few years together.
I wasn't under arrest.
One wall of Dr. L’s small office is the same dusty rose as my bedroom in my Boston Riverway apartment.
He gives me the list of things that MIGHT happen during my 27 sessions of radiology four times each week probably beginning around June 10—yes I will get to Argelès sometime this summer:
Burned skin
Fatigue
Swelling of the right arm
Swelling of the breast (maybe the dent will be filled in)
A rising of the breast
A slight scarring of the lung
He shows me pictures of the machine that will zap any hidden or to-tiny-to-detect cancer cells and explains they might do it while I’m on my back or maybe on my stomach to use gravity. He has no photos of a woman on her stomach, but the one on her back smiles radiantly (okay I’m sorry) at the machine.
“We will give you a tattoo at the exact spot the machine will zap you,” he said.
Nurse Catherine, whose name is surrounded by lady bugs (lady birds for my Brit friends) and also cover her hospital shoes, tells me it is a pin point. I think it would be a great time to get a tiny rose or a book outline partially to shock my daughter. That is not among my choices.
At least it won’t be like the large blue crosses my mother had during her radiation treatments for cancer of the uvula.
Dr. V joins us. He speaks Franglais to me with the emphasis on the lais…
They have a wonderful X-ray picture of me on the computer shot from my head down before the surgery but after I was knocked out. I can see the bones in my arms, the tumour. The can rotate the photo so I have different views. I’m happy the tumour is no longer there.
Dr. L assures me that after I am through with the treatment I can have copies of the mammograms and other stuff. They are mine, but right now they need to keep them. I was not worried.
He asks permission to examine me. At one point he tells me to put my hands on my head.
“Am I under arrest I ask?”
He looks shocked then laughs while nurse Catherine giggles.
Tomorrow I’ve another appointment.
He gives me the list of things that MIGHT happen during my 27 sessions of radiology four times each week probably beginning around June 10—yes I will get to Argelès sometime this summer:
Burned skin
Fatigue
Swelling of the right arm
Swelling of the breast (maybe the dent will be filled in)
A rising of the breast
A slight scarring of the lung
He shows me pictures of the machine that will zap any hidden or to-tiny-to-detect cancer cells and explains they might do it while I’m on my back or maybe on my stomach to use gravity. He has no photos of a woman on her stomach, but the one on her back smiles radiantly (okay I’m sorry) at the machine.
“We will give you a tattoo at the exact spot the machine will zap you,” he said.
Nurse Catherine, whose name is surrounded by lady bugs (lady birds for my Brit friends) and also cover her hospital shoes, tells me it is a pin point. I think it would be a great time to get a tiny rose or a book outline partially to shock my daughter. That is not among my choices.
At least it won’t be like the large blue crosses my mother had during her radiation treatments for cancer of the uvula.
Dr. V joins us. He speaks Franglais to me with the emphasis on the lais…
They have a wonderful X-ray picture of me on the computer shot from my head down before the surgery but after I was knocked out. I can see the bones in my arms, the tumour. The can rotate the photo so I have different views. I’m happy the tumour is no longer there.
Dr. L assures me that after I am through with the treatment I can have copies of the mammograms and other stuff. They are mine, but right now they need to keep them. I was not worried.
He asks permission to examine me. At one point he tells me to put my hands on my head.
“Am I under arrest I ask?”
He looks shocked then laughs while nurse Catherine giggles.
Tomorrow I’ve another appointment.
Monday, May 23, 2011
My last visit with Dr. M
My surgeon is going to America, San Fran--I have brought her a San Francisco guide book and she hugs me.
We discuss my recovery and she wants me to have nine sessions of physio.
Looking at her art work, she tells me she can recommend reconstruction. I really don't feel I need it. The scar is minor. The indentation is hidden under a bra. A cockeyed nipple has character. It is a memory, part of my life.
Dressed everything looks normal. I can forgo my annual appearance on the beach topless...or not.
There is a nurse at the appointment who wants to make sure that the information sources that I already have are marked to show which ones speak English. "It is harder to speak a foreign language on the phone," she tells me. I know. No hands or facial expressions to measure meaning. Still 90 percent of this whole thing has been in French. English would have been easier, but I wouldn't trade the language for a different service.
I am a lucky woman.
We discuss my recovery and she wants me to have nine sessions of physio.
Looking at her art work, she tells me she can recommend reconstruction. I really don't feel I need it. The scar is minor. The indentation is hidden under a bra. A cockeyed nipple has character. It is a memory, part of my life.
Dressed everything looks normal. I can forgo my annual appearance on the beach topless...or not.
There is a nurse at the appointment who wants to make sure that the information sources that I already have are marked to show which ones speak English. "It is harder to speak a foreign language on the phone," she tells me. I know. No hands or facial expressions to measure meaning. Still 90 percent of this whole thing has been in French. English would have been easier, but I wouldn't trade the language for a different service.
I am a lucky woman.
Drawings encore plus.
Dr. B draws three circles with tiny nipple-like circles inside.
"I only have two breasts," I say.
"Those are cancer cells." He adds a line, a barrier. He adds little x's bouncing off the barrier.
"That is the anti hormone treatment that will prevent any nourishment getting through to any remaining cells that are invisible to us."
He is another kindergartner (despite his baldness), although he was there 13 years ago when my housemate went through the same procedure only with chemo. He is also leaving the service to run another larger service. He gives me the name of his replacement that I will see in July.
He talks about only 2 of all the possible markers in my tumour were aggressive. He says even with that I could stop treatment at this point, but it is NOT his recommendation. It is such a far cry from the past when they took the breast, nodes, gave chemo, radiation and anti-hormone treatments. He say the success rates are about the same.
I will continue with radiation and pills.
He warns me with the pills that I could have hot flashes and become depressed and moody. I told him I would warn my housemate. He also said some of my joints might hurt in the morning. At 68 5/6 I still think it is worth it. He said with severe reactions, there were alternatives.
He will order more tests to get baselines to make sure that no other cells are anywhere in my body.
"I only have two breasts," I say.
"Those are cancer cells." He adds a line, a barrier. He adds little x's bouncing off the barrier.
"That is the anti hormone treatment that will prevent any nourishment getting through to any remaining cells that are invisible to us."
He is another kindergartner (despite his baldness), although he was there 13 years ago when my housemate went through the same procedure only with chemo. He is also leaving the service to run another larger service. He gives me the name of his replacement that I will see in July.
He talks about only 2 of all the possible markers in my tumour were aggressive. He says even with that I could stop treatment at this point, but it is NOT his recommendation. It is such a far cry from the past when they took the breast, nodes, gave chemo, radiation and anti-hormone treatments. He say the success rates are about the same.
I will continue with radiation and pills.
He warns me with the pills that I could have hot flashes and become depressed and moody. I told him I would warn my housemate. He also said some of my joints might hurt in the morning. At 68 5/6 I still think it is worth it. He said with severe reactions, there were alternatives.
He will order more tests to get baselines to make sure that no other cells are anywhere in my body.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Yesterday was a wonderful day
I had lunch with Mighty Mom, a former neighbour, a great writer and mom, who now lives an ocean away but lucked out for a quick trip back to Geneva.
At night there was a surprise birthday party for another writer and spending the evening with nine creative, intelligent women is a gift.
One of my friends approached me. She told me of another acquaintance, a doctor doing some kind of research on people who had breast cancer. Would I be willing to talk to her.
Of course I would. I hope she calls.
For the last couple of weeks I could easily pretend there had been no cancer. Now on Monday I have two appointments and on Wednesday a third. They'll setup the radiation schedule. Pretend time is over. Back to reality.
At night there was a surprise birthday party for another writer and spending the evening with nine creative, intelligent women is a gift.
One of my friends approached me. She told me of another acquaintance, a doctor doing some kind of research on people who had breast cancer. Would I be willing to talk to her.
Of course I would. I hope she calls.
For the last couple of weeks I could easily pretend there had been no cancer. Now on Monday I have two appointments and on Wednesday a third. They'll setup the radiation schedule. Pretend time is over. Back to reality.
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