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Bravery

June 19, 2014 by Dee

As I write this my adored little sister is under the surgeon’s knife 2,600km away.

This isn’t minor surgery, this is a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy and free flap reconstruction. (You can google those if you want) In short, she’s seeing off her ‘girls’ (the ones who made overt threats that they wanted to kill her in November) and the surgeons are recycling other parts of her torso into new boobs. All in the name of removing that long term, underlying fear that one day she might have to hear the words ‘the cancer’s come back’.

It’s sobering, as I know that had my own journey last November taken the same turn, I too, at some point, would be doing the same. The idea is sensible and good, and brave. And the reality is bigger than I expected.

When she and I spoke earlier in the week, she talked about the fear of not waking up from surgery on one hand, and almost in the same breath we joked about Deb Cohen’s Mastectomy Beyonce Dance off (neither Hills nor I have Deb’s killer moves). We also sent the video below to her surgeons for a laugh (no doubt they get sent it often)

We talked about the after and the prospect of going from a D to a B, from an hourglass to a pear, and how her middle son who loves to snuggle in will be sad about there being less snuggle room.

I sent her a text yesterday full of love and empathy about becoming gorgeously dainty in the boob department, she replied with love and with calm. The decision is made, the post operative bedlam will be weathered with great support from friends and family, and I get to travel those 2600km on Saturday and be big sister, and auntie Dee and I am glad to have the flexibility in my world to make that happen.  I am glad that family is only 2600km away and no more.

But above all I am awed by her bravery, and in making a big decision, a big change all in favour of a better chance at a long and healthy life.

It’s made me wonder what changes I am, or am not prepared to make for the same.

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Neighbourhood Snapshots

March 2, 2014 by Dee

I got into two arguments this morning.  Two.  With car drivers.

This was not so much a road-rage situation as a road-bemusement one… Bemusement because I was the pedestrian, crossing roads with an island in the middle… the kind of island that was there so I may stop and give way to the cars turning into the street in front of me.  Argument because in both cases, as I stood in that island and waved the cars through while they were pausing to let me finish crossing – they, in turn  resolutely staying stationary waving at at me, so that I would cross… and while they did this the cars banked up behind them so that I had no choice but to cross so that there didn’t end up being a traffic jam.

I have to laugh at the picture that remains in my mind of us people both determinedly waving at each other… neither of us moving.  It puts me in mind of that old KFC ad… “I said now you go.. and Hugo said you go…”

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I was completing my walk down the main road of my suburb and the tram went past… the poor tram driver got stuck behind a driver who was reversing into a parking space… I feel sure he just wanted to ding the hell out of his bell to hurry that driver up… but these things rarely serve to do more than fluster people so there he sat, this rhinoceros on wheels and waited… I gave it no further thought..

until the phone rang… “Hey Dee! I just went past you on the tram… how’s things?” and so we chatted… my neighbour and I and she told me that my DVD, the one I’d lent to the waitress at the restaurant across the street had been returned while I was out… so now we have a plan for a catchup this afternoon and the return of the DVD…

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*HONK HONK* “HEY DEE!

They yell out the window… the chef and the waitress, yelling to say Hi as I’m walking up that same main road while they’re driving past…  this isn’t the first time I’ve been honked at because I’ve been recognised.  It seems somehow friendlier, if a little more embarrassing than the quiet acknowledgement that happens much later when someone says  “hey, I saw you walking up the street yesterday” … Don’t you think there’s something creepy about that?

It’s also funnier if you have your headphones on and only just make the connection and turn to wave in return as they fly past.

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BRIIIING!! Crash… OUCH… OOOPS, Sorry!!

Hit by a marauding scooting 2 year old on the Anniversary Trail,  her papa hot on her heels but not quite quick enough to avoid the collision… her mother and 8month old sister following along behind…. How do I know?  Dad is my osteopath…

The moral of the story.. is … if you’re going to get run over… might was well be in the company of the person who sees you in your underwear more often than anyone else…

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Hey Dee!!!  Again… a drive by greeting!! This time, the publican at that crazy pub across the road… “When are you coming in for a drink??!!!”

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This is my neighbourhood… I won’t lie… it feels good to know and be known.

I love it here.

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Still in Between

December 18, 2013 by Dee

I really dropped you in it didn’t I?  Sorry, I didn’t mean to. The last week in between tests, consultations and flying to NZ didn’t leave much room for any more than texting results to the ‘tight five’ and jumping on a plane. I’m now in the motherland, staying with friends and family and generally keeping things normal.

And, they are, well, not normal, but not alarming.  Let me give you the low down (seeing as Kelley asked).

Monday morning started innocuously enough, I’d been getting somewhat more alarmed during the weekend trying to mentally prepare for the CT scans and Nuc Med bone scans booked for that morning. I’d expected not to take too long, and had planned to spend the rest of the day working as usual.  This wasn’t to be, simply because once the scans were done I was asked to come back later in the day for a full body scan.

It was pretty much at that point that my brain started into overdrive… WTF? I hadn’t been mentally prepared for this, and my brain went into overdrive as to why they felt the need… all I could think was that they’d seen something that warranted further action.

You really can’t tell your brain at that point that if there was abdominal involvement it would have shown up on the ultrasounds… and it was even harder to have an internal voice of reason when the story across the Tasman had taken a turn for the more serious.  So I called up the Tailor who came over and kept me sane for a couple of hours before I had to go back to be scanned from top to toe.

That scan duly done I went upstairs to the [breast] surgeon’s rooms to collect my referral to the orthopaedic surgeon and went home to call him for an appointment. I was desperately hoping that he was free to see me before I was due to fly to NZ on the Thursday… and thankfully had a slot on Wednesday.  So the awkward in between continued, with something more of a disconcerting edge, until then.

I googled the surgeon… one of his specialities is musculoskeletal tumours… did I say disconcerting? I meant downright terrifying.

My lovely neighbour, offered to keep me company at the surgeon’s, company and moral support, and her son’s mother offered to drive, so it was Dee and the senior citz off to visit the surgeon. But we duly arrived, filled in all the requisite paper work and waited our turn.  As with all the other appointments I’ve had in the last 3 weeks, this one was also on time, quick, and ridiculously expensive…

The surgeon duly read through all the scans and finally pulled out the two relevant to his interests and asked me two things.  “Does it hurt?” (a consistent question throughout the whole affair to which the answer was always no) and “What have they already told you?”.

Based on the fact this thing in my arm has never caused me pain, and on his experience with looking at such things, the short story is that he was confident that he was looking at an enchondroma – I’ve googled them, they don’t sound serious, and as mine is asymptomatic I’m not expecting things to get any more interesting. The surgeon was pretty low key about it, seemed a little bothered at the extent to which my case had been esclatated… but as he wanted to set my mind at ease he is going to schedule an MRI and a bone biopsy to rule out anything dastardly.

We’ll deal with that in January.

In the meantime, I’m back in NZ, Lil’ Sis, is having a lymph node biopsy on Friday, and we’re all crossing everything that it proves negative, given that she went from  low grade, contained (in the duct) cancer to invasive carcinoma in one fell swoop during her biopsy, we’re on elevated alert. (Though at this stage she’s not considered to have life threatening disease… phew).

Thanks to all of you who’ve been checking in, sorry to leave this update so late… when it was all happening I had no brain space to blog, and now that it’s mostly all over I didn’t have any need to vent it out… for now, all is well.  I’ll let you know if that changes, and if I get gnarly scans, I’ll show you my ‘inside out’ pix in the New Year.

 

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Be Careful What You Wish For

December 5, 2013 by Dee

I know I’m one of probably 80%* of people who have been blogging as long as I have who have run out of ‘blogging steam’ in the last couple of years. It’s easy to do, a blog about your personal life, a life that has settled into some kind of mundane normality, isn’t one that provides much fodder for reflection or much interest for those who may have been reading.  You know, at least as long as all you’re doing is getting up, going to work, eating socialising and so on.

Frankly, I could have been blogging about my Melbourne adventures, but those have mainly revolved around trying new restaurants, drinking new and ever fancier local beers. Furthermore, I  have never wanted this blog to turn into that Christmas letter you see ever year. You know the one, you’ve probably got one on your mantlepiece as we speak, one that rattles off all of the year’s achievements, and sometimes the ups and downs, but mostly which serves to be a ‘on-paper’ Facebook wrap up that shows off the bits of our life that makes us look more interesting than we are.

This makes me think that for some writing a personal blog and reading everyone else’s, at least in this quarter, has run out of steam because we’re only so interesting as we are different from those around us, and as the similarities become more obvious the longer we blog… I don’t know.. I’m spitballing here… just writing until I’m ready to write what I’m actually supposed to write about.

So, about that…

In reference to the title… I had a moment recently when I’d kind of wished that my life hadn’t settled so quickly back into normality even in my new surroundings; I kind of hoped that I had more fodder to write about… and well, here we are after a visit to the surgeon with just that.

More to write about.

Don’t panic.

I’m not panicking, so frankly I don’t you need panicking either. I really only know a little more now than I did before my appointment. That really only amounts to having seen the x-ray and had pointed out the area on those films which has raised these questions.  I do know that the point of curiosity on the x-ray is a 2.,5cm long lytic lesion (go ahead, look it up, but I don’t want you to tell me what you find, thanks) that’s sitting at the top of my right humerus just below the shoulder joint.

The surgeon has said “It could be a tumor”, and the fact that the edges aren’t strictly smooth makes them want to look at it further.  So, yep, I’m still in limbo, still in that ‘awkward in between’ until I have a bone scan and CT scan next week (Monday).

So yeah, stick around, I’ll give you an update then.

*made up number

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