After many, many weeks of waiting (and having to get my blood re-drawn because the first lab wanted my first born child in payment for the testing), I finally got the phone call with the results of my genetic testing.
And.... I do not have any mutations that increase the risk of breast cancer!
I cried. This is a huge relief for me.
I really have nothing else to say except I am so happy I did this!
(Thanks Carol!)
Wife, boy-mom, restaurant manager. Life is insane, and I kinda like it :-)
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Thursday, August 13, 2015
And now we wait
Well, I had my appointment with the genetic counselor yesterday.
If I had to sum it up in one word it would be "overwhelming".
Basically I had one small tube of blood drawn, and this tube will tell me if I have the normal, 12% chance of developing breast cancer, or up to an 80% chance. Umm... terrifying.
She discussed some of the options I would have, depending on which mutations they found. If they find one of the big guys, the BRAC1 or BRAC2 mutated genes, we have to get serious. This could involve removal of ovaries and breasts. (did I mention scary?)
If they find one of the more moderate risk mutated genes, we could just take the stronger surveillance route and start mammograms earlier and perhaps alternate those with a breast MRI.
My mother did not get treatment for her breast cancer at CCI. The only time I had ever been there before was several years ago when my mom was tested for bone cancer. She did not have bone cancer, and I remember the relief and the immediate tears at the news that the tests were negative. I never thought that she would die a few years later from a different cancer.
I felt very emotional sitting there, waiting to be called back, and then again in the room,waiting for the counselor to come in. A weird mixture of grief, and fear, and hope. The room I was in was just like the room we were in when my mom had the testing for bone cancer. It made me miss her, and made me afraid for my boys. I want to be around for them for a long, long time.
The dr said that because my mom had the disease and died so young, that could be an indicator of mutated genes. But that most people that get tested get negative results. So I have no idea what to think or how to feel.
I have 3-5 weeks to wait. If only test results came back as fast in real life as they do on Grey's Anatomy....
If I had to sum it up in one word it would be "overwhelming".
Basically I had one small tube of blood drawn, and this tube will tell me if I have the normal, 12% chance of developing breast cancer, or up to an 80% chance. Umm... terrifying.
She discussed some of the options I would have, depending on which mutations they found. If they find one of the big guys, the BRAC1 or BRAC2 mutated genes, we have to get serious. This could involve removal of ovaries and breasts. (did I mention scary?)
If they find one of the more moderate risk mutated genes, we could just take the stronger surveillance route and start mammograms earlier and perhaps alternate those with a breast MRI.
My mother did not get treatment for her breast cancer at CCI. The only time I had ever been there before was several years ago when my mom was tested for bone cancer. She did not have bone cancer, and I remember the relief and the immediate tears at the news that the tests were negative. I never thought that she would die a few years later from a different cancer.
I felt very emotional sitting there, waiting to be called back, and then again in the room,waiting for the counselor to come in. A weird mixture of grief, and fear, and hope. The room I was in was just like the room we were in when my mom had the testing for bone cancer. It made me miss her, and made me afraid for my boys. I want to be around for them for a long, long time.
The dr said that because my mom had the disease and died so young, that could be an indicator of mutated genes. But that most people that get tested get negative results. So I have no idea what to think or how to feel.
I have 3-5 weeks to wait. If only test results came back as fast in real life as they do on Grey's Anatomy....
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
The next step....
You have all followed me through this journey of losing my mom. You have read my blog, my feelings, raw emotions typed while tears are streaming down my face. Last year was the worst year of my life, no denying it.
But it has been 14 months now. And even though I miss her desperately, the pain isn't as strong. It doesn't take my breathe away, it just gives me a sick feeling in my stomach and a loneliness in my heart. I am surrounded by people I love, but she was the one person I talked to daily, about everything and nothing, all at the same time.
So... where do we go from here? Is the story over?
Now begins the next step- and I share this only because I think there are others who are as scared as I am and want to have this done- genetic testing. My mother's breast cancer was swift and short and deadly. She had what is called Inflammatory Breast Cancer. It is basically the queen of all breast cancers. It doesn't form a tumor, so the mammograms and self-checks my mom did were in vain. This cancer spreads through the tissue. Because of this, it is very hard to diagnose. It is rarely found before it is stage 3, my mom's was stage 4. She didn't have a clue that cancer was destroying her until it was already in her lymph-nodes.
So, it's the scariest breast cancer. It makes me feel like there isn't anything I can do to prevent it. I've given up artificial sweetener. I've given up real sugar. Trying to eat only real foods. I have gotten back into the gym. Trying to reduce every risk factor I have.
Thanks to a sweet friend who sent one of her friends my info, I am going to be taking it a step farther. I have made an appointment for genetic counseling. I am (hopefully) going to find out if I have the gene that causes breast cancer.
I am terrified. Sick to my stomach, can't think about it without crying, terrified.
Why am I doing this? Because my mother died at 49. FORTY NINE! That is only 16 years older than I am right now. Drew would barely be 20 if I died that young. The thought of leaving my babies.... I can't handle it.
And if it turn out I have the gene, there are steps I can take. Steps that I will take to try to prevent this horrible disease from taking me from my family. So I ask you to pray for me, to keep me calm until my appt (AUGUST, ugh!), and to pray for the results.
And I'll let you know.
But it has been 14 months now. And even though I miss her desperately, the pain isn't as strong. It doesn't take my breathe away, it just gives me a sick feeling in my stomach and a loneliness in my heart. I am surrounded by people I love, but she was the one person I talked to daily, about everything and nothing, all at the same time.
So... where do we go from here? Is the story over?
Now begins the next step- and I share this only because I think there are others who are as scared as I am and want to have this done- genetic testing. My mother's breast cancer was swift and short and deadly. She had what is called Inflammatory Breast Cancer. It is basically the queen of all breast cancers. It doesn't form a tumor, so the mammograms and self-checks my mom did were in vain. This cancer spreads through the tissue. Because of this, it is very hard to diagnose. It is rarely found before it is stage 3, my mom's was stage 4. She didn't have a clue that cancer was destroying her until it was already in her lymph-nodes.
So, it's the scariest breast cancer. It makes me feel like there isn't anything I can do to prevent it. I've given up artificial sweetener. I've given up real sugar. Trying to eat only real foods. I have gotten back into the gym. Trying to reduce every risk factor I have.
Thanks to a sweet friend who sent one of her friends my info, I am going to be taking it a step farther. I have made an appointment for genetic counseling. I am (hopefully) going to find out if I have the gene that causes breast cancer.
I am terrified. Sick to my stomach, can't think about it without crying, terrified.
Why am I doing this? Because my mother died at 49. FORTY NINE! That is only 16 years older than I am right now. Drew would barely be 20 if I died that young. The thought of leaving my babies.... I can't handle it.
And if it turn out I have the gene, there are steps I can take. Steps that I will take to try to prevent this horrible disease from taking me from my family. So I ask you to pray for me, to keep me calm until my appt (AUGUST, ugh!), and to pray for the results.
And I'll let you know.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
It wasn't me this time...
Drew is potty trained. He was absolutely the most difficult of my 3 kids to finally get trained, and it didn't happen until he was 3. He still can't make it through the night. I may never stop buying diapers/pull-ups.
Lately, he has started having accidents again. Not just when he is sleeping, but throughout the day. And sometimes, I find pee spots without finding wet clothes so I kinda feel like he is just dropping his pants and pissing every where at random.
I think he utilizes a tactic called "Revenge Pee". I'm pretty sure it goes like this: Drew is a little shit. Drew gets in trouble. Drew gets spanked/yelled at/sent to his room. After screaming for 4,567 hours, he thinks, "I'll show them", walks over to the closet and just pees in the floor. It's like having a puppy around the house all over again.
Speaking of puppies, the other night I didn't sleep well. The dogs were restless and just kept waking me up. They never whined or seemed to need to go outside, so I just kept telling them to shut up (not really effective) and trying to go back to sleep.
I guess the constant interruption in my sleep made me have a weird dream that I thought was real, and I woke up at 3:00 thinking I heard someone in my house. Instead of waking up my husband, I decided, stupidly, to investigate on my own (Truthfully, if there was an intruder, I'd probably be dead before I got him awake and alert enough to understand what was going on). I found nothing, so headed to the bathroom before I attempted sleep again.
So I am sitting in the dark, taking care of business, exhausted, with my head in my hands, when I look up and see a dark figure standing in the door way. Holy mother of pearl it scared the crap out of me (luckily I am on a toilet. ok, terrible joke), My husband had been woken up by my adventure, and was innocently headed to the bathroom and for a split second, I thought I was dead.
Needless to say, I didn't really sleep well for the rest of the night. The dogs settled down, but my heart just never recovered. When it was time to get ready for work, I discovered a nice fresh puddle of pee in my closet! As I am cleaning it up, I am cursing the dogs because I know it has to be one of them because of their restlessness the night before.
Drew wakes up and comes in the room. He asks what I am doing and I explain that I am cleaning up pee. He looks up and says, "But Mom! It wasn't me this time!!".
Lately, he has started having accidents again. Not just when he is sleeping, but throughout the day. And sometimes, I find pee spots without finding wet clothes so I kinda feel like he is just dropping his pants and pissing every where at random.
I think he utilizes a tactic called "Revenge Pee". I'm pretty sure it goes like this: Drew is a little shit. Drew gets in trouble. Drew gets spanked/yelled at/sent to his room. After screaming for 4,567 hours, he thinks, "I'll show them", walks over to the closet and just pees in the floor. It's like having a puppy around the house all over again.
Speaking of puppies, the other night I didn't sleep well. The dogs were restless and just kept waking me up. They never whined or seemed to need to go outside, so I just kept telling them to shut up (not really effective) and trying to go back to sleep.
I guess the constant interruption in my sleep made me have a weird dream that I thought was real, and I woke up at 3:00 thinking I heard someone in my house. Instead of waking up my husband, I decided, stupidly, to investigate on my own (Truthfully, if there was an intruder, I'd probably be dead before I got him awake and alert enough to understand what was going on). I found nothing, so headed to the bathroom before I attempted sleep again.
So I am sitting in the dark, taking care of business, exhausted, with my head in my hands, when I look up and see a dark figure standing in the door way. Holy mother of pearl it scared the crap out of me (luckily I am on a toilet. ok, terrible joke), My husband had been woken up by my adventure, and was innocently headed to the bathroom and for a split second, I thought I was dead.
Needless to say, I didn't really sleep well for the rest of the night. The dogs settled down, but my heart just never recovered. When it was time to get ready for work, I discovered a nice fresh puddle of pee in my closet! As I am cleaning it up, I am cursing the dogs because I know it has to be one of them because of their restlessness the night before.
Drew wakes up and comes in the room. He asks what I am doing and I explain that I am cleaning up pee. He looks up and says, "But Mom! It wasn't me this time!!".
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
1 year
Dear Mom,
As of tomorrow at 5:00 am, I will have lived a year without you. 365 days without my mother. 365 days without hearing your voice. Without your guidance. Without you.
It seems like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time. I struggle to hear your voice. If I concentrate really hard, I can hear the way you said, "Darlene" on your voicemail. But that's it. I can't hear anything else.
I haven't cried in awhile, until today. I don't know why today makes it harder, it is really just another day. But I keep thinking back. Thinking of the constant vigil at your house. Thinking of watching you. Worrying. Waiting.
I wish I had realized how bad it was when you told me you had cancer. I wish I would have scooped you up and taken you away for a fabulous vacation. Did you ever even have a great vacation? Ever in your life? I don't know. Money was always so tight. There was so much I wanted to do for you when I was able. So many places I wanted to take you. Things I wanted to buy you. All the things you didn't get to do or buy because you were busy providing for us.
I remember one year for my birthday, you redecorated my bedroom. I came home from school and I had a new comforter, shelves, pictures, everything. I don't know how you always had the money to give us the things you did. But I will never forget all you did for us.
I miss you, so very much. Yes, it has gotten easier. I don't cry everyday anymore. I don't often have that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the pain that takes my breath away. But as time goes by, I miss you more than ever. I wasn't ready to be a grown up without you.
Mother's Day is this weekend, and it will be the second time I haven't had a mother to shop for. How I wish I had the problem of figuring out what to buy for you. Or where we would go for dinner. All I can do is say thank you. Thank you for everything you did for us while you were here. Thank you for it all.
As of tomorrow at 5:00 am, I will have lived a year without you. 365 days without my mother. 365 days without hearing your voice. Without your guidance. Without you.
It seems like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time. I struggle to hear your voice. If I concentrate really hard, I can hear the way you said, "Darlene" on your voicemail. But that's it. I can't hear anything else.
I haven't cried in awhile, until today. I don't know why today makes it harder, it is really just another day. But I keep thinking back. Thinking of the constant vigil at your house. Thinking of watching you. Worrying. Waiting.
I wish I had realized how bad it was when you told me you had cancer. I wish I would have scooped you up and taken you away for a fabulous vacation. Did you ever even have a great vacation? Ever in your life? I don't know. Money was always so tight. There was so much I wanted to do for you when I was able. So many places I wanted to take you. Things I wanted to buy you. All the things you didn't get to do or buy because you were busy providing for us.
I remember one year for my birthday, you redecorated my bedroom. I came home from school and I had a new comforter, shelves, pictures, everything. I don't know how you always had the money to give us the things you did. But I will never forget all you did for us.
I miss you, so very much. Yes, it has gotten easier. I don't cry everyday anymore. I don't often have that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the pain that takes my breath away. But as time goes by, I miss you more than ever. I wasn't ready to be a grown up without you.
Mother's Day is this weekend, and it will be the second time I haven't had a mother to shop for. How I wish I had the problem of figuring out what to buy for you. Or where we would go for dinner. All I can do is say thank you. Thank you for everything you did for us while you were here. Thank you for it all.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Beautiful placenta....
Drew has been a little terror lately. He is 4 now. I really feel like my other two were little grown people by now. And Drew is still a baby. I know, this is partially (all?) our fault. He is a little more spoiled than the others were. It is hard with the 3rd. By then you are so tired you just want them to leave you alone, so "yes" is a lot easier to say than "no"
There is one instance that comes to mind. Luke was having a corndog. Drew was throwing a fit for his corndog. Now, when we only had 2 kids, we would have told the little one to cut the crap, you can't have your brother's corndog. But now there are 3 of them. And one of them is... difficult. And he has been crying all day. And he never sleeps. And so, before you know it, you've said, "Luke, give Drew your corndog". Or you've given Drew whatever he wants at a swim meet/basketball/soccer/baseball game, just so that you can make it through and maybe see your other child participate in the sporting event for more than 10 seconds.
You reap what you sow.
However, it may not all be our fault. I came across another theory to his evilness awhile ago. It was my best friends 30th birthday. And in typical fashion, we were talking about things that made us realize how old we are. Like babies, and mortgages, etc. One of our friends is prego, so the word placenta came up more often than it should have.
And BAM! It hit me! When I had Drew, everyone in the hospital commented on how beautiful my placenta was. And the umbilical cord. I am not lying. They brought other nurses in to see them. This had never happened with my other two, so it isn't like my placentas are naturally beautiful. Now, I've never actually seen a placenta. Jimmy says it's the grossest thing about child birth (and he's seen me poop myself while having a baby, so he should know). I am not sure how it can be beautiful, but they were in awe.
Anyway, I digress. The point is this : THE PLACENTA STOLE ALL HIS GOODNESS!! It is the only explanation. He was robbed of all the sweetness he was supposed to have. I should have blended that thing up and fed it to him in a bottle.
 |
| This child. |
If you are reading this and you are horrified at the things I say about you, just wait until you have kids. You will understand. But you will also understand that I love you so much anyway. And uh... sorry about that whole #drewsreignofterror thing...
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Wasn't it just yesterday...
I wrote this awhile ago and never posted it, I don't know why. But thinking of my mom today because my timehop today was a picture of her and the boys. I would give anything to be able to call her today.
My mother wrote a poem for me when I was moving out of the house for the first time. I was angry at her for being so upset. She didn't want me to go, and I desperately wanted my freedom.
This is what she wrote:
When they placed you in my arms,
What a precious baby girl.
I counted fingers and toes to see just how perfect you were.
I had never loved so much.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When your first step was your greatest accomplishment?
You are one of my greatest accomplishments.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When I could kiss all your pain away?
I held on to you when you were scared.
I guess I'm holding on now because I'm scared
Wasn't it just yesterday
You were walking slowly down that school hall?
I knew then how hard it would be to let you walk too far away from me.
Wasn't it just yesterday
You were crying on my shoulder?
"Mom, why does it hurt so bad?"
I could feel my heart break with each tear that fell
Wasn't it just yesterday
I kept you from playing in the street?
from climbing that big tree?
from scraping a knee?
Oh how I want to keep you safe now.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When your mommy was your world?
When I could do no wrong in those precious eyes of yours
Wasn't it just yesterday
When I dreamed of your future?
Graduation, wedding day and the day they place her in your arms.
Wasn't it just yesterday
when you held me so dear?
I was going to be the best mom ever
when you would cry if I wasn't near?
I was going to be your best friend
I was going to be it all for you
Wasn't it just yesterday
When you grabbed my hand and said, "Mommy, let's go!"
It WAS yesterday when you said, "Mom, let go!"
One day you will understand, why I still hold your hand.
What a beautiful baby you were,
What a beautiful lady you are becoming.
How proud I am of you, and all you are, and all you do.
How much longer will you be home with me, before your life will be without me
Hold my hand just a little longer! Don't let go!
I love you,
Mom
aka mommy.
My mother wrote a poem for me when I was moving out of the house for the first time. I was angry at her for being so upset. She didn't want me to go, and I desperately wanted my freedom.
This is what she wrote:
When they placed you in my arms,
What a precious baby girl.
I counted fingers and toes to see just how perfect you were.
I had never loved so much.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When your first step was your greatest accomplishment?
You are one of my greatest accomplishments.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When I could kiss all your pain away?
I held on to you when you were scared.
I guess I'm holding on now because I'm scared
Wasn't it just yesterday
You were walking slowly down that school hall?
I knew then how hard it would be to let you walk too far away from me.
Wasn't it just yesterday
You were crying on my shoulder?
"Mom, why does it hurt so bad?"
I could feel my heart break with each tear that fell
Wasn't it just yesterday
I kept you from playing in the street?
from climbing that big tree?
from scraping a knee?
Oh how I want to keep you safe now.
Wasn't it just yesterday
When your mommy was your world?
When I could do no wrong in those precious eyes of yours
Wasn't it just yesterday
When I dreamed of your future?
Graduation, wedding day and the day they place her in your arms.
Wasn't it just yesterday
when you held me so dear?
I was going to be the best mom ever
when you would cry if I wasn't near?
I was going to be your best friend
I was going to be it all for you
Wasn't it just yesterday
When you grabbed my hand and said, "Mommy, let's go!"
It WAS yesterday when you said, "Mom, let go!"
One day you will understand, why I still hold your hand.
What a beautiful baby you were,
What a beautiful lady you are becoming.
How proud I am of you, and all you are, and all you do.
How much longer will you be home with me, before your life will be without me
Hold my hand just a little longer! Don't let go!
I love you,
Mom
aka mommy.
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