What a lovely relaxing weekend! Sea Island has changed quite a bit, but it is still one of the most elegant and restful resorts I have ever known. I was so unwound that I even forgot what day it was. We had wonderful food, fabulous wine and probably the biggest room I have ever had. Scott played golf twice and I got my massage. All in all a simply wonderful time.

Then this week it was back to the doctors offices. First, the oncologist. I had been a bit concerned because I didn’t think the tumor was shrinking the way it should. It went down quite a bit at first, but just didn’t seem that different to me lately. After asking me if I examined it everyday (which I do, or nearly so), he thought I was perhaps being over analytical - imagine me, over analyzing something - and he was pleased with the progression of the tumor. Always upbeat and encouraging, he was very reassuring. He is going to continue to watch the progression, or lack thereof, and reassess after my second round of the next type of chemo.

On to the surgeon’s office today. This is the guy who wanted Scott to go with me so we could make a family decision regarding the type of surgery. I did make it clear that with all due respect to Scott, it was my decision. Of course, of course he says, what ever you want we do. Different song this time. Anyway, we all agreed that I should see the plastic surgeon and hear what he recommends, but preliminarily the plan is a bi-lateral mastectomy with reconstruction done at the same time. It will probably take place the first week of September. This gives my body time to recover from the chemo and time to get the boys to their respective new schools.

I have already made an appointment with a plastic surgeon. That was difficult, as if anything in this process has been easy. I didn’t really know who to call, the surgeon recommended 2 different guys and I didn’t really like the qualifications of one of them. I’ll see if I like this other guy when I see him in a couple of weeks. We’ll see.

I just found out that Amy Mikelson, Phil's wife has breast cancer. He is leaving the tour as she is having surgery in the next few weeks. Poor thing. I remember those first days so very well. While it still seems insurmountable, back then it was incomprehensible. I hope she has even half the wonderful support I have from my friends. That's the only way she will get through.

All I can say about the last three weeks is PHEW!! What a whirlwind and yet what a wonderful time. We have had my dad’s 80th birthday, which I could not attend; (Sorry Dad, wish I could have been there.) my 50th birthday; Andrew’s graduation; another chemo treatment, which put me in bed for three days, family in town, and Nick’s graduation.

I made all the events except for Nick’s baccalaureate service on Friday night and lovely Jessica’s party on Sunday. I just couldn’t do them. I know Nick didn’t mind, but I did. I cried for a while and then had to put the wig on and go out to dinner with the family. What a great get together! Scott and I couldn’t be prouder of our 2 boys.

Sunday though, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I stayed in bed all day. I guess the events of the last weeks finally all caught up with me. Pow. Even now, I am still trying to recover. If I am busy in the morning, I am in bed in the afternoon, don’t even ask me about evening.

Scott and I are going to Sea Island this weekend. We made the plans for my birthday way in advance of the diagnosis. In spite of the wet weather, it will be wonderfully relaxing and a welcome respite as well as the only vacation we will get this summer.

I was making a reservation at the spa. They were making conversation, I was making conversation and the subject of my chemo came up. A couple of days later, they called me back asking for a release from my doctor before I have a massage. I never would have thought of that. Did they just have some stupid lawyers trying to make money by covering all the bases? Lawyers know how to do that, trust me. Or is there really an issue about having a massage when you have breast cancer? Apparently there is. The doctor said ok but not near the tumor site. Huh, who knew. I don’t care, I’ll take whatever I can get. So off we go, thanks for dog sitting Nick.

Well, here I am in chemo. I thought maybe it might be interesting to know what goes on in here. When I first heard I needed chemo, I had no idea what to expect. In my head it was a big dark room where mysterious chemicals were poured into the bodies of terribly sick people making them even sicker. That is not at all what is going on in here.

Leather recliners are placed around the outside of the room. Each chair has an iv setup beside it and a set of drawers between each 2 chairs. These drawers contain all the stuff required for hooking us into the iv’s. When I walk into the chemo area, I scan for my favorite chair, I like one toward the end where I can look out the window. I look around at the other patients but most don’t make eye contact. Today is not very busy, there are only 5 of us in here, although more come in as the morning goes along. Some I recognize from being in here before, and some I don’t. No one talks to anyone else. It is an unwritten rule that you don’t ask anyone “what are you in for”.

After sitting down and settling in, the nurse comes over to take your vital signs and get you set up. She then sterilizes the area and freeze sprays it before accessing the port and plugging me into the iv. I then sit for the next 2 1/2 hours letting the toxins drip into me. Most other people seem to sleep during their drip, others watch tv, as I have already said, I like to watch videos. The nurses are extremely busy, hustling around changing iv bags, drawing blood, answering questions, settling people in, unhooking them to let them go to the bathroom, charting patients, answering the phone, even getting juice, coffee or snacks. I have been in here when the 2 nurses were nearly running from patient to patient, giving each one individual attention yet answering the beeping from the next iv unit.

Apparently, they used to allow visitors into the room with patients but some of them got out of control. I can see where it could be annoying to have a bunch of people talking when all you want to do is sit quietly and relax. Plus privacy rules now come into play, and patients are sensitive to the interference of others.

Well, now I am two hours into it and I am getting sleepier. Funny how that works. Headache sets in and the upset stomach also starts up. My nurse has always been so very nice to me. She gave me samples this time for the nausea that are one a day. I am hoping with all of the medications I can control the nausea to feel better by the end of the week for Nick’s graduation.

Sorry, signing off now. Getting that funky chemo head and there is no telling what I’ll say.

I was in my surgeon’s office last week talking about how the surgery was going to go. I wanted to discuss the possibility of taking both breasts. First, let me tell you about my surgeon. Very nice guy originally from Iraq. Without making any stereotypical generalizations about him or Iraqis in general, I am going to say he is a bit of a chauvinist. Let me tell you why...

We were talking about surgery to remove both breasts and what the procedure would be. If he only takes one, he removes the tissue and all the lymph nodes and does reconstruction at the same time. If I do both, he does the same on the right side and on the unaffected left side he removes the tissue, saving the skin and then a plastic surgeon comes in to do the reconstruction. He made a referral to a plastic surgeon for me, to speak with prior to the next appointment.

Then he asks why I would want to take both breasts. My response is I would do just about anything to not have to go through this again. But why did God make breasts on women, he asks rather nonchalantly. Hey, I am done with the baby making thing, I am not in need of the real ones anymore. They are not just for babies, he responds. The real ones are, I say.

We discussed the need for the gene test to determine if I have the genetic predisposition for breast cancer. If so, then for sure I will have them both removed, if not well we can discuss.

Then he made this wild comment: next appointment, bring your husband with you. We want the whole family to understand and agree with this decision.

Oops, he doesn’t really know me very well. Uh, I will be happy to bring Scott with me to the next appointment, but the decision will be mine, I tell him. Oh, of course, of course, he hurries to reassure me.

Here’s the best part. I start to tell Scott about this and I get to the part about wanting him at the next appointment and he laughs and says why? Like I could make you change your mind about this. That’s why we’ve been married so long. He knows me so well.

Next appointment, Scott can come, he can hear what the doctor has to say and is welcome to make any comments to the doctor or me that he wants to make. But the decision, that will be mine.