Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I hate BPA

Has anyone seen the eco scandal of the weekend? SIGG metal bottles made before August 2008 have Bisphenol A in their epoxy. Find out here on Treehugger and RealGreenGirl.

C. de Lune and I have been using SIGG bottles since last summer when the Bisphenol A in plastic info came out. I threw out all plastic #7 kitchen pots, utensils, sippy cup and water bottles, and we haven't bought bottled water in just as long. Now I don't remember SIGG saying their bottles were made out of stainless steel or were PBA free --I just assumed they were, since they were the first available alternative to plastic. I was wrong. And once again, my dad was right: "ASSUME makes and ASS of U and ME." And if you think you never heat up those bottles, well leave a metal bottle in the car in the sun and you will see that it heats up quickly. To think Claire was drinking milk from her bottle today.

If you don't know what this chemical is, you need to. It's a synthetic estrogen like phthalates that has the power to act as estrogen in your body. It's recently been linked, even in small doses, to breast cancer (well look at that!) and other hormone receptive cancers, infertility, growth issues, brain development issues and many other health concerns mostly in babies and children. No amount is safe --think about it. If your water bottle has a so-called "safe" amount, and all your canned foods have "safe" amounts, and your eye glasses have "safe" amounts, then your food has phthalates in "safe" amounts, and your shampoos, and your cleaning products... That's a lot of estrogen you're absorbing every day. In fact, since hormones act as cell regulators, having your hormones out of wack is bad news for you, good news for cancer cells. I'm living proof --no pun intended.

Well I'm pissed. I feel like one of those victims in Erin Brockevich (with less money that is). Who do I sue over this is what I wanna know. I feel I could have prevented my cancer, so I'm going to do everything I can to protect myself and my loved ones from it. But it's hard. The world is poisoning us. I go to the supermarket and all I see are health hazards. I replace something bad with something I think is better, and then I find out it was just as bad. But I'm not going to give up.

I'm starting a new blog about all I'm learning in my mission to save my ass. I've been finding out so much I want to share with you. I don't have a name for it yet. I'll still contribute to this one as my cancer chronicles, no worries. But hopefully, soon there will be no cancer to, um, chronicle...

Saturday, August 22, 2009

La vie en rose

I might as well have a little fun. The absence of eyebrows is quite shocking, don't you think? I'd never wear it to go out -- not because I don't have the nerve, but because the thing is itchy as hell. Besides, Run-Lola-Run fire engine red or Alias blue suit me better. LOL.

Not sure about Fifth-Element orange though (Thanks Jedidja).

Friday, August 14, 2009

One more time around the cancer merry-go-round

It appears that post cancer/chemo depression is common. My oncologist said that some women even need anti-depressants to help them through this phase. Every breast cancer book has a chapter on it. In my case, I can't say that I'm depressed and no, I'm not in denial. I know depression from observation and having lived through situational depression myself in the past, and that's not what I'm feeling now. I would describe it more as being in turmoil. Confusion, sadness, exhaustion, fearfulness are all feelings that come and go on a regular basis lately. But in general, I'm in a good mood and I still feel like my positive self. It's strange actually, everyone around me including myself, expected me to be over the moon with relief and joy once chemo was all done, but I'm not. "Just one more!" you would tell me "You're almost done!" That's what kept me going, even what I was chanting to myself. But, like my doctor said, women go through all this horrible mess that is breast cancer, and take up all their strength, energy and courage to keep their head above water and still care for their family that when the it's all done, they crash. I described it like this to D in the car last night: When you're in shit over your head, you get used to the smell. But back up a few feet and boy does it ever reek. I guess that's it, isn't it? What I've been through stinks so much, that I'm now terrified I'll have to go through it again. Like a little black cloud that follows me around threatening to explode on me again. 18% probability of precipitation fowever. At least, I'm not alone, I'm normal. And alive. I will get through this phase like all the other ones before it and I will not let that cloud mess with my head, or my life. It will just have to become part of the scenary.

On another note, yesterday, at my 6 month-follow-up-of-surgery appointment, I got my referral for plastic surgery. That's exciting. Next year will be a strapless summer. The bad news is my surgeon found another lump, this one under my left arm (my tumor was on the right). I'm going for another ultrasound. No one panic, I'm not. It feels smooth and it's sore, which is very different from my turmor and typical of my PMS. And lets not forget I've just had 6 rounds to nasty chemo, but that's no garantie. On the flip side, it confirms my decision to have both breast removed. Lumpy as they were, can you imagine having to go for tests and biopsies for every lump they find? I had dozens on any given month! At least that's one thing menopause would fix --period induced lumps.

Speaking of which, once again this doctor and nurse were shocked that I had had my period during chemo. Apparently, It's very rare. I shared my fears on Tamoxifen with my nurse and found out she had breast cancer 8 years ago (this is not my home nurse, which also has it 7 years ago). She shared with me that she was fairly young when she had a mastectomy on one side because the tumor was big, and she took the drug for 5 years, as prescribed. She said there were changes for sure, but in general the advantages outweighed the rest. AND, I thought she looked her age, not older, which was very comforting to me. I might be vain yes, but not so vain that loosing my hair and removing my breast was not something I was willing to go through to save myself. I'm coming around to the menopause idea. I'm starting to see it as a challenge --refusing to let it affect me.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Same old, same old

There is no closure. I was dead wrong. I went to my oncology appointment and was hit hard with reality. My head is still spinning and I expect it will for days. I can't take anymore bad news for awhile. My quota has popped. This is today's bad news.

That hormone blocking pill that induces menopause I didn't want to take? I'm pretty much forced to take it if I don't want more cancer. All those pathology percentages they gave me, 25%, 10%, 15%, 30%, etc, etc, etc --they were all wrong. Either I misunderstood or they weren't explained clearly. I presume it's a bit of both. Here is my reality:

-Before my double mastectomy, there was a 60%-65% chance I would get cancer again in my breasts.
-After the mastectomy, there is a 10%-15% chance I will get breast cancer again in the remaining breast tissue (skin, muscle).

In addition, and here is where it gets complicated:
-Before chemo, there was a 60% change I could get cancer again. Anywhere. Think about it. 60% is a passing grade in school.
-After chemo, i.e. right now, there is a 20-25% change I will get cancer again. Anywhere. Especially in the next 10 years. This means either breast cancer in my remaining breast tissue, or a new type of cancer, or breast cancer that has metastasized (moved to another organ). If it's breast cancer in my breast again, they'll find it quickly because it will be easy to feel. If it's a new form or cancer, well, you can imagine all the scary things it could mean. But here is the scariest of all: If it's a metastasized breast cancer, that's a stage 4 --terminal. If I get cancer again in the next few years, that's what it is.

If I take this Tamoxifen drug, my chances of recurrence would be cut down another third, to around 15%. What this drug does is acts as fake estrogen, taking the place of real estrogen in receptive cancer cells and therefore killing them. As a result, it shuts down my ovaries and induces menopause. And why do I need this?

Under the microscope, I didn't have the most aggressive breast cancer they have ever seen, not buy a long shot. But they are still worried for two reasons (and worried oncologists are never a good thing). The first is my age. I'm too young and there are a lot of years of life to save, and a lot of reproductive years ahead of me. Which brings me to the second reason: I am too fertile. I have too much estrogen in me on any average day. So much in fact, that my period didn't even stop or hardly get affected by chemo. I thought that was a good thing, but in fact, it's very bad. My ability to have babies is threatening my life. The answer is to stop it from working.

So this is it my options: menopause and all it's side effects and I might still get cancer again, or live with the 25% recurrence rate I have now. The thing is, I'm a good candidate for cancer recurrence based on estrogen. Which also mean I'm also a good candidate for estrogen blocking therapy. My cancer was fed. They can starve it.

You might wonder why this is a problem for me. The problem is I'm terrified of early menopause. More than I was terrified of chemo. Natural occurring menopause at 5o when it's supposed to happen? Fine. But not at 35. Think of someone who's been through menopause and ask yourself -- Would you want it early? Forced on you? I feel I'm f*cked if I do, f*cked if I don't. Same old, same old. I'm going to go throw up now.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Closure week?

I know I've been writing less, but less is happening on the cancer front which is a good thing. We're back from PEI, where I got to relax in the countryside and at the beach. I was quickly reminded though, of just how weak I still am. I must pace myself or I just zonk out.

This week is all about medical closure of some sort it seems. Wednesday is my last regular blood test and oncology appointment --I think. Will let you know. My doc will push me to take anti-hormonal drugs that will induce menopause. I'm already having hot flashes just from the hormonal effect of chemo, and they are no fun. Like burning up from the inside. It's not something I'm willing to do, and since my doctor's job is to push me to do all I can to survive, I feel a struggle coming on. Don't get me wrong, I want to live, but there are others things I can do for myself to help me stay alive, without the early menopause.

Thursday is my 6-month-follow-up-to-surgery appointment where I will probably get my plastic surgery referral. And I also have an MRI, the last step of the Chemo fog cognitive study I was part of --until next year, that is. The only things that are left, as far as I know, are a nuclear heart test, other odds and ends tests, and the big one, reconstruction surgery. Not looking forward to that, but looking forward to the result.