Is it for real?

Is my tattoo real? That's the question of the day. And the answer is....psych! It's not real but I can't believe how many people I fooled. I caused quite a stir from all the emails and phone calls I've received today. In fact, my father left me a voice mail saying, "Please tell me that tattoo isn't real." While I used to be quite the rebellious teenager, I'm no longer into all that wild stuff. I'm sure there are many women who go through a traumatic event such as I have, and decide to get a tattoo. But I'm not one of them. From what I hear, getting a tattoo is painful and frankly I've gone through enough physical pain to last a few lifetimes. However, since reconstructed breasts involve tattooed nipples, maybe I'll forgo the traditional nipple and instead have a butterfly or something else tattooed on there. I'm still mulling over that one.

By the way, my" tat" is actually an ornamental sleeve that I will wear over my compression sleeve if and when I get lymphadema (swelling of the arm). Women who have had a mastectomy are at a higher risk of developing lymphadema. Having radiation on top of it further increases my risk. So when I fly home for Christmas, I get to wear my "tattoo" as a preventative measure. But unlike permanent tattoos, I get to take mine off!

Trading tits for tats

Going through all this cancer B.S., I've been thinking that I need to do something kind of crazy. But what exactly, I wasn't sure. Then I found myself talking to another cancer survivor recently, and she told me about how she celebrated the end of her treatments by getting a beautiful tattoo. I've never been a fan of tattoos, but I decided to make an appointment with the same tattoo artist. Lo and behold:

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's just me and Mr. Pincushion for Thanksgiving this year. Normally, we visit with family in New Jersey, but with my radiation treatments ongoing we remained here in Austin. No turkey dinner, either. Our Thanksgiving meal consisted of pies: a chicken pot pie, and an apple pie for dessert, both sent by a dear friend in MA. They were delicious...thank you Robin!! Mr. Pincushion also made some cranberry sauce, at my request. Both of us agreed that we would take a moment before eating our dinner (in front of the TV, because we're totally addicted to the show Breaking Bad) to say what we were grateful for this year. But, distracted by our pies, we forgot. So I thought I would write down a few things now. I'm grateful for the following: 1) the success of my treatment so far, 2) my wonderful, sweet husband, 3) my MS has been stable, 4) my fabulous family and friends, 5) the generosity of so many people during my cancer treatment, and 6) our sweet and gentle dog, Lucy, who gives me healing kisses every day. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

Breath in, hold and release

Today began the third phase of my treatment...RADIATION! Every weekday for the next six to seven weeks, at precisely 10:30am, the left side of my chest will be zapped with several strong beams of radiation. The process went like this: After getting undressed, I laid down on a hard metal slab, with my position held in place by a custom mold of my upper body. The radiology technicians drew some marks on my chest and then left the room, leaving me alone with this enormous machine that rotates around me like a space shuttle orbiting the earth. I had to lay there holding both my arms above my head with the elbows out to the side for the next 15 to 20 minutes, not moving an inch. With each beam of radiation the technician recited the mantra, "breathe in... hold... and release." While the treatment itself wasn't painful, I was uncomfortable holding my body in that position due to the tightness in my chest. After a few minutes, my arms and hands were completely numb. Also, having this massive machine hovering over my chest and sending down radioactive beams was just a little freaky. There were a couple of moments where I felt myself getting a little panicked, especially towards the end when I started to smell something burning! Fortunately, I was able to restrain myself from jumping up and bolting out of the room like a bare-chested lunatic. As for that smell, the tech told me that other patients who have had chemo have noticed it also, probably because the chemo can make you more sensitive to certain smells. The techs, on the other hand, said they don't even notice it.

Me getting prepped for radiation.

"You say it's your birthday..."

Well, it's official. As of today, I've been on this earth for 41 years! To be honest, there have been two distinct times in my life when I wasn't sure I'd make it this far. In 2003, I battled a severe onset of multiple sclerosis. And now this year I'm fighting an aggressive form of breast cancer. But look who's still standing! I'm the Energizer Bunny—I just keep going, and going, and going, no matter what's thrown my way. Well, enough is enough. I'm hoping and praying for a fabulous 41st year, one full of positive, exciting changes for me (& my hubby). I DESERVE IT!!! I started my fabulous 41st today by getting a foot massage, and my aching, dry feet are now loving life. Later, it's off to a nice dinner at an Italian restaurant with Mr. Pincushion.

                                                                  

Kindness from a stranger

I had an inspiring experience yesterday in the parking lot of Costco. I was unloading groceries from my cart into the trunk of my car, and due to the soreness in my chest I was having a hard time of it. All of the sudden this woman—about my age—stopped her truck, got out, and asked if I needed some help. I gladly accepted, explaining that I recently had surgery and was still feeling sore. She said she had noticed me struggling and was happy to help out. She even put my cart away for me before driving off. What a wonderful, selfless thing to do for a perfect stranger! It got me thinking how most of the time I go about my daily business deep in my own thoughts, paying little attention to the world and the people around me. The kindness of this woman has inspired me to "pay it forward" by helping someone else in need.