Where there's a will, there's a way

Last night I wanted to take a bath. Normally, that's nothing out of the ordinary but now, I couldn't just jump into my tub to soak because of all the black marks from my radiation mapping. When I'd had that procedure done early last week, the doctor told me not to get those wet. She said if they came off, we'd have to go through the whole process of mapping all over again. I surely didn't want that. Hmmm....what to do??? I could just run the water so it only came up to my thighs, but that wouldn't even feel like I was getting to enjoy my long, soaking bath. I could just forego the bath and take a shower...nah, I did that every day. My muscles were really aching and I needed a long, hot soak. After a few minutes, I had an epiphany!

One of my favorite movies of all times is Fried Green Tomatoes, based on the book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg. It is filled with thought provoking drama and wonderful Southern humor. Jessica Tandy (Idgie/Ninny), Kathy Bates (Evelyn), and Mary Louise Parker (Ruth) play the lead roles in a story of a Depression-era friendship between two women, Ruth and Idgie, and a 1980s friendship between Evelyn, a middle-aged housewife, and Ninny, an elderly woman who knew Ruth and Idgie. The centerpiece and parallel story concerns the murder of Ruth's abusive husband and the accusations that follow. It's a movie I never tire of watching.

Recently, when my daughter, Erin, was in town, we had the pleasure of traveling to Senoia, Georgia to photograph the scene from the movie where Ruth's son, Buddy, loses his arm in a train accident. While we were there, we both sensed an eeriness of feeling the scene play out around us. Of course, it was only our vivid imaginations, but it was memorable to say the least.

Now, back to my desire to have a long, hot, soaking bath! (I know you wondered where in the world I was going with this post, but trust me and hang in there! It will all make sense in just a few minutes!) My mother always said, "where there's a will, there's a way." This old Southern saying meant if you wanted something badly enough, you'd figure out how to do it. Well, I really wanted that bath. I needed that bath. My epiphany came as a scene from the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes, flashed before me. In this particular scene, Kathy Bates, is attending classes on how to put the spark back in her marriage. She and her husband haven't been romantic in some time and she longs for that passion to be rekindled. In the scene, Evelyn (Kathy Bates) is sitting in a class taught by Fannie Flagg (the author of the book) and in the class, Fannie talks about how to get that "spark" back. As Fannie is speaking, Evelyn is daydreaming. She daydreams about wrapping her body in cellophane and greeting her husband at the door when he comes home from work in nothing but the cellophane. It's a hilarious scene but, it gave me an idea!

Cellophane!!! That was it! I ran into the pantry and pulled out a roll of Saran Wrap and hurriedly went back to the bathroom. I tried to wrap it around myself without much luck and so I called loudly to my husband, "can you come here and help me for just a minute?" Phil was watching Mountain Men on TV, a show about men who rough it in Alaska, and he didn't respond right away. I called to him again, "honey, can you come help me?" Within just a few minutes, he came into the bathroom to see what I needed help with. I explained my plan to him and instead of him looking at me like I was a crazy person, he calmly and patiently unrolled the plastic wrap and helped me wind it around my body several times. All the markings and dots were covered! Now I could get my bath!

Phil went back to watch his show and I ran my bath water. As I slid into the warm, soothing water, I think I heard music in the background...a heavenly TA DAH! (My Daddy always said TA DAH whenever he'd done something he was proud of and he wanted us to recognize him for his efforts.) I leaned back against the back of the tub and relaxed. The water was so pleasant and I could already feel my muscles unwinding. I glanced down at my abdomen and saw the Saran Wrap. Underneath the layers of Saran Wrap were large black dots and X's, and underneath all that were two long, dark red mastectomy scars. Boy was I a sight! I couldn't help but laugh and then I couldn't stop laughing! As I sat there, I couldn't help but think how you'd respond today as you read my post. If you aren't laughing at least maybe I've brought a smile to your face. There is indeed a way if you have the will and desire to do something. I think my Daddy would even be smiling because when I stepped out of the tub, I said a loud, "TA DAH" as I threw my arms open wide and grinned.

Watch the scene from Fried Green Tomatoes (Evelyn & Cellophane)
©bonnie annis all rights reserved

I am grateful

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit my mother at the nursing home. It was the first long trip I'd made since my surgery and I knew it was going to taxing on me. Thankfully traffic was light and it only took us about an hour and a half to get to the nursing home. I wondered how my mother would react to seeing me without breasts. Would she cry? Would I cry? 

As we went in to see her, we passed many elderly people sitting by the entrance and in the hallways. I always try to smile and look each person in the eye as I pass them because I know how lonely they must be for some sort of social interaction. Many of the women we passed seemed to stare blankly into space and others moaned out in distress. It was very disconcerting. We moved quickly down the hall and toward my mother's room. We had planned to surprise her with an unannounced visit. She was also unaware that several of her grandchildren and one of her great grandchildren would be joining us.

As we continued down the hallway, I noticed one woman in particular. She sat in the middle of the hall, her eyes never moving and her face was fixed in a large, open mouthed grin. It was obvious she had suffered from a stroke or some other facial paralysis. I smiled back at her but her expression never changed and I could tell she wasn't aware of her surroundings. How very sad, I thought to myself, to spend the rest of your life sitting in a wheelchair with your mouth wide open. 

My husband, one of my daughters, and I went down the long hallway all the way to the end. When we got to Mama's room, I knew as soon as we entered that she was having a rough day. She was lying in bed with a washcloth on her head and on her bedside tray were several cups of gingerale. I asked  how she was feeling and she said she'd been extremely nauseated and it had been a hard morning. I asked if I could do anything for her and she just shook her head no. I kept waiting to see if she would look at my chest or indicate she was upset that I'd recently had surgery, but she never said one word about it. I was grateful she didn't ask me a million questions.

Soon one of my other children arrived with her husband and her little one. Mama was so happy to see them. She hadn't seen the baby since last September and was amazed at how she had grown. She enjoyed watching the little blonde head of her youngest great grandchild as she bobbled around walking first to one side of the room and then the other. (Heather was so short that her head was about all Mama could see from her bedside viewpoint.) I was happy to see her smiling.

My brother and my nephew arrived and suddenly I noticed the room was crowded with people. Mama had so many who loved her! We had a nice visit with and although she wasn't feeling well, I think Mama enjoyed the visit too. We spent time catching up on the events in our lives and even made a 4 generation photo together. As I sat in her room, I realized how blessed we were that Mama was still cognizant of her surroundings. She's still able to laugh and converse with us. Her mind is very sharp.

The longer we sat in her room, the more I could feel my arms swelling. I hadn't been able to elevate them since we'd left home. This was not a good thing! We stayed a little while longer and then I felt like we needed to go. Mama's roommate had come in and didn't seem to be too pleased to find so many people in their room. This roommate was not friendly and sat in the corner of her side of the room glowering at us.

When we got ready to say goodbye, I glanced out into the hallway and saw the woman with the frozen smile again, but this time, instead of focusing on how sad it was...I saw it as a blessing! Here she was in a nursing home full of people in various stages of life. Yes, there were many whose minds were locked in time. There were many who sat around in a vegetative state and many who did nothing but complain. But this lady just sat quietly in her wheelchair, alone in the hallway, with a huge gaping grin on her face. Was she able to see something I couldn't see? Perhaps she was smiling at Jesus!

I'm not sure what the circumstances were behind the woman with the big, toothless grin, but this one thing I do know...I'm sure she was much better off than those who chose to complain all day and even if she wasn't completely aware of her surroundings, it didn't really matter. In my mind, I decided she must have taken that verse of Scripture to heart - "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2. Her eyes were fixed and her smile was wide, I can only imagine the beautiful sight she beheld. I am grateful that one day too, I will see Him face to face in all His glory. Oh what a day that will be!

About halfway back home, I realized I was exhausted. I don't know, why but just making this trip had worn me out. I was taken aback at how very tired I was and my husband, Phil, noticed. He encouraged me to lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I wasn't sleepy, just physically drained I explained to him. Traffic was heavy making our trip back even longer than it had been in the beginning. I was so thankful when we finally pulled into our driveway. For the remainder of the day, I kept my arms elevated. After about an hour, I turned in early. I guess my energy level isn't what it used to be. Hopefully it will get better over time. I don't like feeling this way but I am grateful to be alive. 

I went to sleep thinking about the nursing home visit. My mind kept returning to the woman with the frozen smile. Wouldn't it be amazing if we were all so filled with joy that our faces couldn't help but remain permanently frozen with happiness? It would be awesome to notice nothing but smiles on people's faces instead of expressions of worry, complaint, or despair. I imagine it will be that way when we get to heaven and I can't wait! As I thought about what heaven would be like, I fell asleep. I wonder if I was smiling as I slept through the night? 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved 

Lymphedema update

Yesterday I went to Piedmont Rehab and Fitness Center in Fayetteville to have my Lymphedema assessment. I was surprised when I went in and saw what looked like a very well organized gym before me. On almost every piece of equipment was an elderly person obviously using the machines for post operative rehabilitation. I felt awkward and out of place sitting there waiting for my name to be called. I wondered what machine they would place me on and if I would be able to do whatever therapy they decided I needed to do.

After about thirty minutes, a young, blonde woman came up to me and asked if I was Bonnie. I stood up and greeted her. She took me back to a separate examination room and began asking me a lot of medical history questions, nodding her head and entering my answers in the laptop on her little desk. After we'd completed the questions, she had me undress from the waist up and sit on the exam table.

Alison, the Lymphedema specialist, brought an extractable tape measure and a blue marker over to the table. She sat in front of me and began to measure different intervals up my left arm. She started at the wrist and measured then made some blue markings on my arm. Next she went up about 4 inches and did this again but this time, she recorded the numbers from her first measurement on my arm. As she recorded each measured circumference, I tried to see what she was writing on her notepad but couldn't. After she finished the left side, she did the same thing on the right side and then proceeded to measure my chest area and around each armpit. When she had completed all measurements and recordings, I looked down at my arms and laughed. She looked at me in a confused way and I said, "I have markings all over my chest from the radiation mapping and now I have markings up and down each arm too. I sure look funny! It's a good thing I don't have to go anywhere but home after I leave here!"

Next Alison pulled out some anatomy charts and began to explain to me how the lymph system works. She used a lot of medical jargon and asked repeatedly if I understood what she was talking about. I told her that I had wanted to be a nurse when I was growing up so when I went to high school, I focused on anatomy and physiology as well as biology. "That's great," she said, "most people look at me like a deer caught in headlights when I explain this to them." I was thankful I had a good knowledge of medical terminology and was able to understand her explanations without asking her to go in to more detail.

The treatment plan would involve lymphatic massage as well as my having to wear a compression camisole and two lymphedema sleeves. Alison said I'd also have to wear gauntlets to prevent the lymphatic fluid from traveling down my arms into my hands and wrists. Gauntlets? I was suddenly feeling a little medieval. She said she'd have to order all of those things and fax the orders over to my surgeon for her signature. As soon as we got that, she'd contact the insurance company for their approval and then I'd go to an offsite location for fitting. Before I left, Alison showed me how to do lymphatic massage on myself and she explained that my radiation could exacerbate the swelling. I am hoping it doesn't. My Lymphedema isn't as bad as some cases, Alison explained. She said some people come in with legs or arms as big around as tree trunks. I am so thankful I don't have that problem! I can't imagine how uncomfortable those people must feel and how embarrassed they must be to go out in public. People can be so cruel and judgmental.

Prayer request: Please pray that my lymphedema does not get worse as I go through radiation. There is no cure for it but the symptoms can be treated with compression and massage. (Mine seems to worsen late in the day after I've been very active with my arms.) Thank you in advance for praying!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Lymphedema

I had hoped I wouldn't get it but it appears that I have a case of Lymphedema in both arms. This is not uncommon for women who've had lymph nodes removed after breast surgery. The Lymphatic system is impeded and Lymphatic fluid can no longer drain properly so it has to collect somewhere in the body. Mine has decided to collect right around and under my armpits.

When I wake in the morning, the swelling is minimal because I've had my arms propped up all night long on pillows, but by mid morning, the tops of my arms are huge. They're so swollen I can barely get my shirt sleeves over them. I'm thankful a friend had recently given me some larger sized blouses and the width of the sleeves on those accommodate my "fat" arms well.

This morning I will be seeing a physical therapist in Fayetteville named Alison Franklin. She's certified in working with Lymphedema patients. I have no idea what she's going to do to help relieve the situation but I have appointments lined up with her for every other day next week and for several weeks following. I imagine I'll be on the road a lot in between these appointments and my radiation appointments.

It would be nice if breast cancer patients could go in, have surgery and just be done never having to worry about anything else again, but as it goes, most women end up having additional physical problems, treatments, and other issues to deal with for long periods of time. And just when you finish all of the required treatment plans and think you're home free, a new disease creeps in...Canceritis. Canceritis is the fear of recurrence of Cancer. So, you see, breast cancer isn't a once and done type of deal...it's a life changing, mind boggling menace. Not only does Canceritis affect the patient, it also affects the patient's family. Who wants to sit around wondering if every new lump or bump might be the return of a horrible disease?

In the words of Scarlett O'Hara, "I don't want to think about that right now!" I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now my focus is to get this Lymphedema under control so it doesn't travel on down my arms and cause me to be unable to do the things I am able to do right now. If it gets worse, they'll put me in compression sleeves. There is no cure for Lymphedema. That's one reason it's so important for me to remember not to have any needle sticks, blood pressures or any kind of skin injuries to either arm because any of those things can highly exacerbate the situation.

It's always something! Tomorrow I'll give an update on what the therapist did for me today. Thank you for stopping by and reading my blog. I'm sure you're learning more about Cancer than you ever dreamed you might. My prayer for you is that neither you nor someone you love will ever have to deal with Cancer but chances are, someone you know will be diagnosed with it soon. When and if they are, hopefully my blog will have given you some tidbit of valuable information or some small shred of encouragement to pass on to them. It's not an easy trial to get through but it is doable. 

One of my favorite quotes is “The strongest of all warriors are these two-Time and Patience.”- Leo Tolstoy. Time and patience, those are the things a breast cancer patient learns well during their journey. I've always been a impatient person. I've always been a hurry up and get it done type of person...typical type A personality, but since I've had cancer, I've had to learn to slow down and just wait. That's one reason I stopped wearing a watch...to remind me to just take time...to just take one moment at a time and that's all I can do.

 © bonnie annis all rights reserved

Fear is sin

This morning, as I was reading my Bible, I came across a verse that I'm sure I've read many times before in the past, but today, it just grabbed my attention like no other verse had in a very long time. This is the verse I read: "...everything that does not come from faith is sin." Romans 14:23
Wow...EVERYTHING that does not come from faith is sin...EVERYTHING. Now that's pretty clear! As I continued to think about that verse, I realized something I'd never realized before...FEAR is sin. Oh, but wait a minute...you say! Fear is an emotion. Well, yes, it is an emotion but fear is so much more than that. Fear is a lack of faith! 

Have you ever thought about fear being a selfish act? It is! When we fear, we are choosing to believe what WE want to believe about something instead of trusting in what God says about it. We are choosing to put the fear above God! And anything put above God is considered an idol. Was I idolizing fear??? I certainly didn't think so but...

I have been very fearful lately. As you might imagine, Cancer can do that to you. Even after surgery and knowing the doctor said she thinks she got it all, I've been fearful there might be some Cancer cells lurking around in my body somewhere. In fact, radiation therapy just confirms that fear...why would they feel it necessary to irradiate my body if they weren't thinking that some rogue Cancer cells might just be swimming up my blood stream or sliding through my lymph system? Fear had attached itself to me during that first phone call telling me the mass was malignant. And that fear had been gleefully taking piggyback rides on my back ever since. That is, until I decided to shake it off today after reading this verse.

God gave me a clarity that I'd never experienced before. In Hebrews 11:6, the Bible says, "without faith it is impossible to please God." Now if fear is a lack of faith, then how did I expect to be able to please God if I was afraid??? Fear certainly doesn't come from faith so I realized that it indeed was a sin.

When you're struggling with a serious illness, it's easy to fall into the trap of only hearing and believing what the test reports show or what the doctors tell you. It's easier to believe the black and white than to have faith in what you can't see or understand. But, as a Christian, I know God expects me to walk by faith and not by sight. 2 Corinthians 5:7 says "for we walk by faith not by sight." So in order for me to walk by faith, I have to choose not to fear!

The more and more I studied this morning, God revealed to me that part of the reason I haven't been sleeping is due to fear. Of course, I have physical pain too, but if I can release the fear completely, God will supply His peace to fill the void the fear was occupying in my mind. In 1 John 4:18, the Bible says, "There is no fear in love [dread does not exist], but full-grown (complete, perfect) love turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror! For fear brings with it the thought of punishment, and [so] he who is afraid has not reached the full maturity of love [is not yet grown into love’s complete perfection]." God's perfect love contains no fear! And I know as His child, He lives inside of me so, His love is inside of me too and therefore, fear can't possibly reside in me!!!

Why had I not realized beforehand that fear is a sin? I knew unbelief was sin but I never connected that fear is too. After understanding this concept, I had no choice but to let it go. I had to pry those greedy little fingers of fear off my back and cast it away. I feel so much lighter now...
I've been set free from the deceitful grip that fear had on my life. Now it has no power over me because I'm choosing to walk in truth instead of believing a lie straight from the pit of hell.

Fear, worry, doubt...all lies! If you're struggling with those sins today, release them! Replace those lies with truth from God's Word. Walk in faith, even though you can't see a thing...just know that He's got you in His hand and He's never going to let you go! Remember that EVERYTHING that does not come from faith is sin....EVERYTHING.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Lonely nights

In the late 50's and early 60's, "I love Lucy" was my favorite television show. She always made me laugh hysterically at her funny antics. Once when I was watching her show, I wondered why she and Ricky slept in separate beds. I think I asked my mother about it and she said something along the lines of it being for modesty's sake...it wasn't proper to show them sleeping in the same bed. Sex certainly wasn't openly televised back then!

Last night I made the decision to sleep in one of our other bedrooms. My poor husband had been hanging onto the side of our king sized bed for too long! He'd been gracious enough not to complain as I added more and more pillows to our bed in hopes of finding a comfortable sleeping position, but neither of us were getting a sound night's sleep. It was strange as we kissed each other goodnight and went off toward separate rooms. For twenty one years, we've slept together unless one or the other of us was extremely ill or contagious. I'd grown accustomed to his snoring and he'd grown accustomed to my tossing and turning. It would be odd sleeping apart from one another. Before turning in, Phil helped me arrange the wedge shaped pillow in the middle of "my" bed and he placed the other pillows all around it as necessary to elevate my arms. We stood back and looked at my little "nest" of pillows and then turned to each other and gave each other a halfway smile knowing we weren't going to be beside each other tonight.

Phil has never had any problem getting to sleep. He works so hard and such long hours that as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out. I, on the other hand, have always had trouble being able to relax and drift off to sleep...so much so, that the doctor had recently given me a sleeping aid to use for the next few weeks so my body could heal properly. I closed the door to my room and climbed into bed. It took several minutes to get positioned so my arms were above my heart, but I did it. Taking my book and my book light, I began reading where I'd left off the night before. I was deeply engrossed in a Stuart Woods' book. After reading a while, my eyes began to get heavy (thanks to the sleeping pill) and I slipped on my eye mask and inserted my foam ear plugs (a habit from sleeping with my snoring mate.) I don't remember falling asleep but I assume I did because the next thing I knew, I heard Phil leaving for work.

It was strange having to make up two beds this morning. It made me very sad that we hadn't been able to sleep together last night. I'm glad Phil was understanding of my desire to give him a peaceful, uninterrupted night's sleep and my need to spread out and take are of my arms. I remembered what he said last night as we parted ways, "even if we sleep in separate rooms, you know I still love you. Nothing is ever going to change that." I responded with a soft, "I know." And that's the way love is...it doesn't matter what comes our way. When you love someone, you always want the best for them. You put their needs above your own. You learn to be selfless and giving.

I am thankful we were both able to get a good night's sleep last night. It looks like we'll be doing this same routine for many more weeks to come. I'll miss his snoring, but I know he's only on the other side of the house and if I get to feeling better, I can always sneak over there and crawl under the covers with him.

I'm praying for a quick recovery but I know I still have quite a ways to go. When radiation begins, right after Labor day, I may be spending much more time in bed than I am now. The doctor has already told me that radiation causes extreme fatigue. I don't sleep well now, but I imagine, from what she's told me, that won't be a problem in weeks to come. Maybe it's best that we're sleeping in separate rooms for a little while...that way, Phil can get good sleep and so can I. It's amazing how much our bodies depend on uninterrupted sleep. The doctor told me that without good sleep, our cells can't rejuvenate and multiply. I definitely need my cells to get all the help they can get right now, so separate beds it is! I am holding on to the fact that this won't last forever and one day soon I'll be back in my own king sized, cool top, memory foam bed. I'll be snuggled up tightly against my husband and I may just leave my ear plugs out that first night so I can hear his beautiful snores all night long and be reminded that he's right there next to me. What do you think...should I do it?

I can just imagine Lucy doing an episode similar to that, can't you? I can just picture her funny face trying to cope with Ricky's loud snoring and in fact, there may have been an episode like that already but I just can't remember. She would probably hit him in the head with something and wake him up. I can just see him rising quickly out of bed yelling, "LUUUUUCCCCCYYYY" in his sexy Cuban accent and then chasing her around the room  as she begins with her famous crying "WAAAAAA." (be sure and check out this funny video of one of Lucy's antics...it will really make you smile!)

Watch Lucy sleep

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

X marks the spot

This morning, I left for the Radiation/Oncology center at 10:15 a.m. under a light, misting rain. All the way to the center, a little Honda was following me so closely, I thought she was going to rear end me. Of course, I had to give her a little brake check to get her off my tail because I didn't want to have a wreck before making it to the center for my appointment.

I entered the Radiation/Oncology office and swiped my ID scan badge that I'd been given on my last visit. Each time I enter for tests or treatment, I will need to swipe my badge so they can record my visit. A nurse I hadn't met yet came out to get me. She had trouble pronouncing my last name so I told her to make it easy on herself and just call me Bonnie. She laughed and took me back to the dressing room. After donning a lovely seafoam green gown, I waited for Pam, the nurse, to return.

We walked down a long hallway and Pam led me into a room with a huge CT machine in the center of the room. It looked like a huge, cavernous, mouth waiting to devour me! She had me stand beside the CT table while she mixed up some sort of solution and poured it into a very large black bag that looked a lot like a Hefty garbage bag. She squished the solution around inside of the bag for a few minutes and then flattened it out on the table. She told me that she was going to position me and needed me to hold that position while she helped me lie back onto the black bag. "Before you lie back, just know it's going to be quite warm," she said. She took my arm and helped me begin to lean back. It was painful to lie flat. I hadn't been in that position since my surgery. I'd been sleeping at night propped up on a wedge shaped pillow with pillows under each arm for support.

As Pam continued to lean me backward, all of my chest muscles were pulling and tugging. They were so tight and I was surprised at how much it hurt. She saw me wince a few times and told me she would try to hurry in the process. As my back touched the bag, I could feel instant warmth surrounding my body. The extreme heat felt wonderful to me but Pam said, "most people find this very uncomfortable." I told her that I was always cold and it felt great to me.Within a few minutes, the liquid foam she'd poured into the bag began to harden around me. She explained that the foam mold they were making would be used each time I came for treatment, and would help ensure that I was positioned exactly the same way each time.

Dr. Santiago entered the room and said hello. She was talking to me but I couldn't see her because the foam mold held my body so that I couldn't turn my head. Finally she realized I was unable to move and she came around the table to the other side. She explained that she was about to do my mapping and the marks she would make on my torso would provide guidelines for the radiology tech during treatment. I couldn't see what she was doing. At times, I could feel her making marks on my body but in the areas around my incisions, I didn't feel a thing because my skin is still numb there. I had no idea how many marks the doctor made, but she continued to draw on me for several minutes. Pam placed clear dot sized bandages over the top of many of the markings. She explained to me that those dots were very important and I should not get them wet or allow them to be removed. When she was finished placing the clear bandages, Pam ran me back through the CT machine again. The machine whirred loudly and sounded like a small jet engine. The only thing painful about the procedure was the way I was having to lie on the table with my arms outstretched over my head.

Finally we were done and Pam helped me sit up. I felt a little dizzy at first. She had me sit there a few minutes until I felt well enough to stand. I was led back into the dressing room and told to place my used gown in a biohazard bin. When I removed the gown to put my shirt back on, I glanced in the mirror. I had markings all over my chest and abdomen. I also had a mark in the center of the side of my neck. I had asked Dr. Santiago about the wide range of marks while she was placing them on me and she told me that the field she'd chosen was to ensure all of the Cancer would be eradicated. She said they were being very aggressive with the treatment plan and the reason they were going as high on my neck as she'd marked was because the Cancer liked to travel that route. The mirror revealed several lines, dots, and even a huge X just under the location of where my right breast used to be. I took a picture of my torso while looking in the mirror. I won't put it on this blog post, but I did want to keep it for my own personal documentation of this journey.

As I looked at the markings on my torso, I couldn't help but think it looked like a pirate's treasure map. I thought it was funny that I had a huge X in the center of my belly. "X marks the spot," I said, hoping none of the staff heard me. (Somewhere I remembered I'd read that phrase was put into use by the British army long ago. They would mark a piece of paper with a black x and would place it over the heart of someone sentenced to death.The acting officer would say "X marks the spot" and the firing squad would shoot the x. Pirates later took up the phrase using the X to indicate the position of a buried treasure.)

I placed my gown in the biohazard bin and as I left the center for the day, Pam said, "see you next week. We'll go over the results of the CT scan with Dr. Santiago and she'll review the treatment plan with you again. More than likely, your radiation won't start until the day after Labor day." I was glad to hear that...a few more weeks of "normalcy."

On the way home, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things. I had to remind myself not to lift anything heavy with my right arm. Both arms are still very swollen from the lymphedema but I was told to be very cautious with the right arm. When I got home, I was extremely tired. I can't wait to show my husband the "treasure map" on my chest when He comes home from work. I just know he's going to laugh when he sees it. I love hearing him laugh. Laughter has been in short supply around here lately and I could sure use a laugh today.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved