tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52111179843636736502024-03-04T21:44:15.063-08:00back(b)logLynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-78843071120216147242022-02-10T07:15:00.002-08:002022-02-10T07:15:13.996-08:00Six Months<p> It's been six months since my sixth surgery. All's well so far.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-8312667800219882972022-01-06T10:18:00.001-08:002022-01-06T10:18:04.516-08:00Off to a good start<p> One week into the new year and all is well, boobwise. I had an MRI the last week of December and that came back "all clear." So, there's that.</p><p>I've had three years of surgery during two years of COVID. I would just like one year off for good behavior. (At least!)</p><p>I'm looking at you, 2022.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-76228183373919322952021-11-11T10:01:00.001-08:002021-11-11T10:01:36.311-08:00Surviving<p> <b><span style="font-size: medium;">I</span></b> fired my plastic surgeon on Friday. It was my third post-op appointment and everything continues to be healing just fine. I learned (only after my sixth surgery) that the first three follow up appointments are free if completed within 90 days. It was said as an aside, not a statement of policy. I've paid a lot of money to this doctor because this wasn't made clear earlier. I insisted that this last appointment occur before the 90 days expired. Sorry to be a pain in the ass, but y'all have been a pain in my boob. And my wallet.</p><p>He wants to do more. He is, after all, a plastic surgeon. He reminded me, as he does at every meeting, that it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and asked if I had changed my mind about additional plastic surgery. I declined saying it (the results) were good enough and I wanted to be done. </p><p>He seemed to understand and acknowledged that it had been a long road for me. He wished me well and told me to say hello to Hubby and then asked his assistant to book another follow appointment for six months from now.</p><p>I told him no, this was the end of the road for me. He didn't try to talk me out of it. If he had any concerns that I needed continued monitoring, he did not express them other than an recommendation to follow up with an oncologist. (I tried but getting medical records proved to be such a hassle that I'm putting it off until the new year. However, I have made an appointment with my GP and we will make a plan for follow up care for the rest of this year: either a mammogram or an MRI.)</p><p>I have come to like this man but it hasn't erased everything I've been through. Just in my time with this doctor, I've had three surgeries, miscommunications, appointments when I've been kept waiting for over an hour, billing errors (still unresolved), debt collection - and all of it during COVID when Hubby couldn't always be at my side.</p><p>I'm 2.5 years cancer free. I'm not a survivor, I'm surviving as best I can. And that's all any of us can do.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-44956086202759931202021-10-15T15:44:00.001-07:002021-10-15T15:44:57.741-07:00Pink<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwBOKqr7806yPCCSsu6e6Hd_qWzwzKFLuyfLMHoBuR4lIqkvky3xfVRqO27Ef-Kis4jN_FyfNz39SLIymz-1A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy4tH6sbn0bpQkzIaBTVSz44bm4mHWpI1vHe0XlsTIFv4Md6YXs6duYLfT4cSjHyfR88H134UNNjKbFRhNpkg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-90397653428864698222021-09-27T18:38:00.005-07:002021-09-27T18:38:49.124-07:00Cancer is Big Business<p>That was the opinion of a woman on Facebook who vented that anyone who wanted to pay $35 for a pink t-shirt just to parade around for cancer awareness was just wasting her money. (I refer to any number of organized events during the month of October designed to raise breast cancer awareness and, more importantly, money.) It would be more useful, she opined, to drive a woman to chemotherapy if one really wanted to help. She went on to say these fund raising organizations were not entirely what they said they were and didn't offer the services they really said they offer.</p><p>She wasn't necessarily wrong. I would have re-posted her comments here except they've been taken down either by the author herself or the Facebook group's organizer (organizing a team of walkers for such a fundraising walk.)</p><p>Cancer <i>is</i> a big business. Surgeons, hospitals, medical equipment companies and their sales reps, pharmaceutical companies and reps, etc., There's a whole non-medical world seeking to profit as well (well intentioned or not). Some would call them wholistic healers; others would call them reckless scam artists. Some are legitimate; some are not. The problem is, the patient has to sort all this out in a pretty short period of time right after she hears the word "cancer."</p><p>I don't know the woman who posted this but maybe she was hurting. Maybe she was still near to her breast cancer experience. Maybe she got burned. Her post wasn't hostile but it was angry. </p><p>I feel for her but I bought the $35 t-shirt anyway. I also checked out the organization for <a href="https://pepp.desertcancerfoundation.org">this particular fundraising walk</a> and felt comfortable enough to <a href="https://pepp.desertcancerfoundation.org/component/jdonation/trilogy-pink-angels-2021">donate more</a>. I haven't volunteered to drive anyone to chemo yet but I did download the application to donate time to said fundraising organization.</p><p>It's not much but maybe someday we can accomplish two things with all this awareness. Eradicate cancer and the big business that goes with it. </p><p>It can make you wonder if one group is working against the other.</p><p><br /></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-71085898394718227922021-09-15T17:50:00.001-07:002021-09-15T17:50:22.971-07:00Vitality<p>I read an <a href="https://knockknockstuff.com/products/affirmators-50-affirmation-cards-help-help-without-self-helpy-ness">affirmation</a> suggesting that I imagine my cells as warriors that nothing could penetrate. Well, I know that's not true. I came across this card much earlier in my journey, maybe even before my mastectomy. I loved the idea of warrior cells doing battle against the cancer in my body. I tried to visualize it and thereby make it so.</p><p>The warriors didn't get the message.</p><p>The subject of the affirmation was really about vitality. Verve. The energy to live. Manifesting that energy, if you will, into healthy cells. A healthy mind and body.</p><p>That's where I find myself today. I'm done with this cancer bullshit. I'm done griping about my insurance company. It's time to let go and get on with it. It's time to be grateful for the rest of me, the healthy, un-diseased vital parts. I'm even grateful for my frankenboob. It's been a long journey but a marvelous and beautiful testament to science and to healers. I wouldn't wish it on anyone but I can be grateful that I made it this far. I have to acknowledge it could have been much, much worse.</p><p>As for the warrior cells, I am imaging them in my niece, praying that these miraculous cells do indeed exist, that her surgery will not result in amputation. Fight, cells, fight! (Different cancer, different body amputation.)</p><p>In the meantime, I'm signed up for one of those cancer walks that are promoted every October. I did one a couple of years ago and was congratulated on being a survivor. I was three months post-surgery at the time and didn't feel like a survivor. I wasn't ready to celebrate survivorship. I was still getting used to my form, my new self image, the idea that I had cancer in the first place.</p><p>I'm ready now.</p><p>The purpose of the walk is to raise funds for the <a href="https://desertcancerfoundation.org">Desert Care Foundation</a> which does not conduct or fund cancer research. Their mission is "to help pay for cancer care for local residents who need financial assistance." I think that's worth supporting. I don't want anyone, regardless of their ability to pay, to have to fight to get coverage from their healthcare provider for breast cancer treatment and related services. I want to help those who need help paying for what insurance doesn't cover. I hate hitting up family and friends for fundraising (which makes me a terrible fundraiser) but if you're interested, <a href="https://pepp.desertcancerfoundation.org/component/jdonation/trilogy-pink-angels-2021">this is the place to donate</a>.</p><p>By the way, <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/dani-combes-kicks-cancer-to-the-curb">my niece has a Go Fund Me page</a>. She elected to get some treatment in Mexico which is not covered by insurance but she will also have care in the United States which will undoubtedly come with a sizable deductible.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-9098801955218936892021-09-09T09:45:00.003-07:002021-09-09T09:45:55.331-07:00I give up<p>I'm tired of fighting with my insurance company. Maybe it's time to throw in the towel. Surrender. After all, I have my life. I have a bionic boob. I have all my limbs (a relative is facing potential amputation in the face of cancer). I have all my hair. I only owe roughly $200 at this point.</p><p>The hospital had lost, then found, $2,000 that I paid so that battle is over. There was no acknowledgement of their error. Certainly no apology for the aggravation it caused.</p><p>I have a while before my account goes to collections. That was another headache: I waited so long for a claim to be paid that my account went to collections. I paid the outstanding $113 but - long story short - I continued to be harassed for money, again, I no longer owed. That's been cleared up now.</p><p>I have a couple of appeals still out there for the remaining $200. I doubt things will change. I'll wait just to see but I might not have any fight left. They win.</p><p>I have some forms to submit a grievance with the state. I'll review those and consider making a complaint at the very least. I won't expect any financial recovery. Last year I paid about $1,400 over my maximum out-of-pocket of $6,900. I don't think I'll get any of that back even though those services were medically necessary and should be covered by my insurance, imo.</p><p>I learned from last year. So far this year, I'm only $200 over my out-of-pocket maximum (of $7k). The hospital found the money they lost. The collections company has recorded the money I paid and closed that account. Theoretically, I only have two more follow-up appointments with my doctor that are theoretically covered.</p><p>It's not so much about the money. It's the principle. No cancer patient should have to fight their insurance company to cover legitimate claims. Cancer patients are already fighting a battle. </p><p><i>No patient</i> should have to fight to have their claims paid. I can't imagine what it's like for people who have no insurance, no education, no means to absorb what insurance doesn't cover. It makes me sad. And mad. Hours of phone calls. Literally, hundreds of pages of paper. (I'm looking at them right now. There's at least 500 pages there.) </p><p>I have to remember to be grateful because, in the end, I'm one of the lucky ones.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-31190443970510471842021-09-04T14:59:00.000-07:002021-09-04T14:59:01.409-07:00Time will tell<p> So far, healing well. </p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-18036492946287120842021-08-22T16:31:00.004-07:002021-08-22T16:31:55.306-07:00Survival<p>I don't think of myself as a cancer survivor. I rather think I'm surviving my healthcare system which has been far more difficult than my experience with cancer. I joke that I have spent more time on the phone with my heath insurance provider than I have with all my doctors in the last two and a half years combined. (For reference, I've had six surgeries so that's saying something.)</p><p>My brush with cancer was so brief it's as if I never had it which is a good thing. It means it was discovered in its earliest stages, before it even became invasive. It was, in fact, categorized as Stage 0 or as a pre-cancer: cancer cells that were growing in the milk ducts of my right breast (where most breast cancers begin) but hadn't yet ventured into the breast tissue. </p><p>A lumpectomy was not possible because there was no lump, yet it was recommended that I have a mastectomy. Even though the breast tissue was, at that point, fine there wasn't all that much breast tissue to begin with, meaning the cancer cells, on a relative basis, occupied most of what little space there was. Ergo, it all had to go.</p><p>I have survived six surgeries: mastectomy, emergency drainage of hematoma, implant, removal of implant, insertion of tissue expander, final implant. In the span of two and a half years, I feel as though I've aged 10. It will take a long while for my body to recover from the effect of so many surgeries, or not being able to be active during six post-surgery recoveries.</p><p>Cancer survivor? More like cancer avoider. I was very lucky in that regard. Warrior? Maybe. But I didn't so much beat cancer as ran the other way. Yes, I survived but we're all surviving something.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-51000073568799421962021-08-12T07:01:00.005-07:002021-08-12T07:01:38.306-07:00Nearing the end, I hope.<p>My sixth, and hopefully last, surgery was August 10. They tell me it went well but I don't remember. </p><p>I haven't looked at it yet. Not that I'm afraid to look, I just have been sleeping mostly since the tissue expander came out and the implant went in. </p><p>I'm doing okay. Very little pain but some discomfort especially getting in and out of bed. My job is to just take it easy until my first follow up appointment.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-57177169833677332592021-08-04T17:54:00.002-07:002021-08-04T17:54:38.481-07:00Near the end? Not likely.<p>The final surgery has been scheduled for August 10. Meanwhile, there is the seemingly unending battle with my insurance company to pay for all of this. Plus, my surgeon's office sent me to collections because the battle with the insurance company was taking too long. So I paid the doctor off and now the battle includes trying to get a reimbursement for a claim that was processed incorrectly.</p><p>The hospital where I had my surgery lost my last two payments totaling $2,000 so they sent me to collections as well. It apparently makes no difference that I have sent them copies of the canceled checks. I don't deny that I owe them the money but I'm not going to pay them twice. It gives me a great deal of stress and opening the mail brings me no joy.</p><p>On the other hand, I'm blessed to have $2,000. I could make all this stress go away by giving them the money and then just hope that some day they'll figure it out and send me a refund with a sincere apology. BWAH HA HA.</p><p>I just hope they don't plan to blackmail me into giving them more money by holding up my next surgery. I want to get this over with.</p><p></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-60649255405172188822021-07-01T19:47:00.000-07:002021-07-01T19:47:05.143-07:00Participation<p>I don't talk about my cancer for a few reasons but the main reason, at it's core, is that I'm ashamed of it. It wasn't awful enough. I still feel like I got a "participation medal for cancer." I wasn't outstanding in my field, but at least I played.</p><p>But then someone spelled my name wrong on the medal and I have to play again. It's not any more awful. It's just a redo like being picked last for a team. Again.</p><p>I'm waiting for the last inning so I can go home, if I may continue the analogy. One more surgery to go. </p><p>Hopefully, my last.</p><p>And, by the way, I don't want to play this game ever again.</p><p>Otherwise, I'm good. </p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-77655007822225750562021-04-04T07:53:00.002-07:002021-04-04T07:53:26.262-07:00The cost of healthcare.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidAvPjdvh4-IFGiZ1msYZUg5RZrktTpaKkm6d_BdDEzac9PqP8gW1quusjPkZrKkVu1plcu0aTqmF_8sxnOkPVZ0X_zCDeGyN_45VyQlgDVw12mFknR0kv2qqGR5U0R73pl14RTmjXgw/s2048/IMG_0982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidAvPjdvh4-IFGiZ1msYZUg5RZrktTpaKkm6d_BdDEzac9PqP8gW1quusjPkZrKkVu1plcu0aTqmF_8sxnOkPVZ0X_zCDeGyN_45VyQlgDVw12mFknR0kv2qqGR5U0R73pl14RTmjXgw/w315-h420/IMG_0982.JPG" width="315" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There are billboards along the freeway announcing, "breast augmentation from $3,500."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a long way from $3,500.</div><br /><p></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-61404196244432940272021-03-18T07:51:00.001-07:002021-03-18T07:51:46.599-07:00Follow up #2<p>Drain came out and I took a nice long shower. Washed my hair and shaved my legs. I was also relieved of the restriction to not lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. (I am still to avoid baths, swimming, and physical activities.)</p><p>There are still some mobility issues which will remain for several months. Namely, I can't lift my elbow above my shoulder. Pullover shirts are tricky but not impossible. Sports bras, if I'm going to wear one, are donned bottom up, pulled up my legs and over my hips before pulling the straps over my shoulders. Reaching for things with my left arm rather than my right.</p><p>I was also inflated at my last doctor visit. The tissue expander was installed with 150 cc of saline. He pumped me up to 200 on Monday. Baddah bing baddah boom! That, for reference, was the size of the implant he took out. Still, he wants to add another 25 cc next week. He's all about going bigger but I think he's only putting in enough for aesthetics and symmetry. Anyway, the final size is is yet to be determined.</p><p>After next week's appointment, we're back to waiting, three months, before my final surgery which should be sometime near the end of June. Just healing and getting stronger. And, getting ready for another surgery.</p><p>My sixth.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-86045142895131449362021-03-08T18:49:00.001-08:002021-03-08T18:49:27.381-08:00Follow up #1<p>6 days after surgery and feeling fine. Mobility is getting better, pain is receding more and more.</p><p>Saw my surgeon and he thinks things are going fine but not well enough to remove my <a href="https://www.oncolink.org/cancer-treatment/hospital-helpers/jackson-pratt-jp-surgical-drain">surgical drain</a>. That and two prescriptions for antibiotics remain for another week. This (the drain) makes bathing difficult not to mention getting dressed, especially in this climate. When one doesn't wear much in the way of clothing (as in, layers and/or loose clothing), it's difficult to be discreet about medical devices.</p><p>Next checkup is in a week. Until then, carry on.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-78595631271260207102021-03-04T08:02:00.003-08:002021-03-04T08:02:57.206-08:00Bionic Boob<p>The surgery for February 9 was postponed. This time because the ECG was irregular so the surgeon referred me to my primary care physician. I would need to obtain clearance from her in order for him to proceed. I saw her on February 1. The ECG taken in her office also came back as irregular so she referred me to a cardiologist.</p><p>Since I couldn't get in to see a Cardiologist until the 17th, the February 9 surgery date got pushed back again. </p><p>The short story is my heart is fine and the Cardiologist approved my moving forward with surgery which got scheduled for March 2. This time, it stuck. </p><p>I had a tissue expander placed in my right breast with 150cc of saline. For reference, the one that was removed was 200cc. The tissue expander has the capacity for 300cc which the surgeon thought I might take advantage of if I want larger boobs at this time.</p><p>Fat chance, I say. </p><p><br /></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-95289103357847002021-01-26T13:13:00.001-08:002021-01-26T13:13:22.307-08:00Surgery rescheduled<p>Surgery is currently scheduled for February 9, assuming we don't have another surge in COVID cases. While I'm not entirely enthusiastic about having surgery, I am looking forward to getting this behind me.</p><p>Or in front of me, as you might say.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-79481810978146843022021-01-08T12:29:00.000-08:002021-01-08T12:29:04.613-08:00View from the top<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRFnUORfuaM17bRbYrvfhQU3mSYiL2Zur3gUGTgQISp89am30vO57RASp8XaRADqyJWKZ0U5Mq1kO0H5g4MnmtFRlUhY_UXn_Ve2NEZ8eXpLJNdGbG7hUwo3UkvpTswTo7I1d4TVIUP4/s2689/IMG_0621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="2689" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRFnUORfuaM17bRbYrvfhQU3mSYiL2Zur3gUGTgQISp89am30vO57RASp8XaRADqyJWKZ0U5Mq1kO0H5g4MnmtFRlUhY_UXn_Ve2NEZ8eXpLJNdGbG7hUwo3UkvpTswTo7I1d4TVIUP4/w622-h270/IMG_0621.jpg" width="622" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIoAIp0kk3A0QsIv5AfzRSn3_Enuw7evVktfNGOGjUHkO08Xmpkgdzg5dLXCH-LL29eQdTP3XR84vvekqqhFdi8MfwBWCIRdrwmfx0ESvOfScppw7LLuJFuPKNSX9bmCtein5zFQyI1M/s2048/IMG_0622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIoAIp0kk3A0QsIv5AfzRSn3_Enuw7evVktfNGOGjUHkO08Xmpkgdzg5dLXCH-LL29eQdTP3XR84vvekqqhFdi8MfwBWCIRdrwmfx0ESvOfScppw7LLuJFuPKNSX9bmCtein5zFQyI1M/s320/IMG_0622.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Location services... even here.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-49002302022404852602021-01-06T17:04:00.000-08:002021-01-06T17:04:09.216-08:00Grounded<p>All non-essential surgeries are hereby postponed due to COVID. Not surprising, I think that was the case last spring as well. At earliest, I might be re-scheduled for the first week in February. If that doesn't work, I don't know if I'll push to have it done before the middle of April.</p><p>I'm only a little disappointed. On the one hand, I'd like to get this over with. It would be nice to wake up with two boobs. It'd be nice to not have to stuff my bra every day - or to not wear a bra, even. On the other hand, I've had four surgeries already. I'm in no rush to have another one.</p><p>We'll get there when we get there.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-10573451273611023102020-12-29T11:20:00.001-08:002020-12-29T11:20:04.917-08:00Approved for Take Off<p>Saw my doc and everything looks like a GO for my next surgery which is to install a tissue expander. That will happen in a couple of weeks. Over time, saline will be added to the device to stretch the skin and create a pocket large enough to house a breast implant. Last time, the implant was 200 cc. Between now and then, I'll have blood tests and a COVID test and there will be some period of quarantine.</p><p>I still haven't paid off all of my bills from the last surgery and have discovered that there is no way to find out much of what I've paid has applied to my deductible. I've also discovered that some of my medical providers have been billed as out-of-network which subjects me to a much larger out-of-pocket exposure.</p><p>My healthcare is a tangled mess and as soon as I get through this, I will find a different health insurance plan because the one I have is for shit.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-69874376855788296632020-12-19T11:03:00.002-08:002020-12-19T11:03:54.505-08:00MRI and a waiting game<p>There's nothing to do but wait - to receive the vaccine, to the end of the pandemic, and for a surgery that may or may not happen in January.</p><p>My surgeon and I do not have the best of relationships, in my opinion, but it would be very difficult to find another one to take over in the middle of this process. I try to be polite, compliant, and as trusting as I can be. My experience, however, is that he could change his mind at any moment as to what he will do so I can only hope things will go as planned.</p><p>The plan is to have surgery to place a tissue expander where my right breast used to be for the purpose of preparing a pocket large enough to house a breast implant at some time in the future. Over time, the volume of the expander is increased until it's the size I want to be - ideally, the same size as the left breast.</p><p>I don't know what size I am because I haven't worn a bra since March of 2019. After my mastectomy and earlier reconstruction, I never got fitted for a new bra. I've been wearing what is referred to as a soft bra. It is, indeed, soft and comes in sizes such as small, medium, and large. If I had to guess, my cup size would be an A but a Nordstrom employee who was helping me in a dressing room once upon a time in 2019 opine that I was a B. No matter. I'm not going for anything big. (The implant that was removed was a 200 cc if that's any reference at all.)</p><p>In the meantime I had an MRI to confirm that whatever scant tissue is still there continues to be cancer free because in no way to I want to proceed with additional surgery only to find out it might need to be undone yet again. I'd forgotten how loud that machine is and wondered if the noises I was hearing were similar to noises produced in torture. I fared well, remaining calm throughout, but I don't know about the angry, aggressive rock "music" that I've heard is also used in torture. At least it wasn't as bad as that.</p><p>The MRI revealed that I continue to be cancer free. Now, all that's left is the wait.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-14493909334324490332020-11-09T15:35:00.002-08:002020-11-09T15:35:41.270-08:00My Knockers are Huge<p></p><blockquote>" <a href="https://knittedknockersusa.org">Knitted Knockers</a> are a light comfortable knitted prosthetic that when placed in a bra has the shape and feel of a real breast, and are more comfortable than silicone prosthetic breasts. "</blockquote><p>Someone told me about Knitted Knockers and learned I could get some for free. After I had a breast removed, I quickly became comfortable in my own skin - something I was worried about before my surgery. I was okay with the image presented to me in my mirror but after a relatively brief recovery, I started to worry about how I would present myself to the rest of the world.</p><p>As if it should matter.</p><p>I was told I could pick up some Knitted Knockers at the cancer center. Indeed, I was given me a bag full of knockers, all of them ridiculously large. I had four pairs of knockers in various sizes and even the smallest were larger than I was previously or ever hoped to be. I pulled some of the stuffing out of one of them and used it to pad my bra. The rest, I returned for someone else to use - someone who had been substantially more endowed.</p><p>By doing this, however, I missed an opportunity to play a practical joke on my brother-in-law and his wife. I was going to see them for the first time since my surgery. Thinking of this too late, I could have worn a (greatly reduced) knocker inside my shirt but not where my boob should be - maybe higher and closer to my shoulder - and waited to see how long before they said something (if at all). I could have let it fall, sliding down to my waist, and acted as if I didn't notice that anything was amiss. I could have worn the knockers as they had been presented to me, going from barely noticeable to a double D!</p><p>Sadly, none of this occurred to me before I arrived at their house. Cancer isn't funny but there's no reason we can't use humor when coping with it. I didn't get to play my joke on my in-laws but we still had a laugh over it anyway. As for the other knocker - the one I'm not using to stuff my bra, I find great humor in watching my cat bat it about my apartment.</p><p><br /></p><p>jk - I don't have a cat but the image cracks me up.</p><p></p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-78202054889181461852020-10-23T10:27:00.001-07:002020-10-23T10:30:29.434-07:00How aware of breast cancer do you really want to be?<p>Do you want to see a woman with only one boob? Maybe you don't want to be <i>that</i> aware. (How about that for spooky?)</p><p>Remember when it was daring to go without a bra? What if women with breast prostheses didn't wear them in October? </p><p>How aware do you really want to be?</p><p>Sadly, far too many are aware of breast cancer already, one way or another. Me, I'm living through it a second time. Sort of. My cancer was sooooo 2019. Among the other challenges 2020 has brought, I am facing reconstruction of the same breast for a second time. </p><p>The implant didn't fail, my skin did. A spontaneous wound appeared exposing the implant to contamination which meant the implant had to be removed. I could theorize as to exactly why a wound such as this might occur but the most basic of answers is the skin tissue was too thin, weakened when a hematoma was drained at that location less than a week after last year's mastectomy.</p><p>Rare, they say.</p><p>Hopefully, awareness will bring change. Actually dollars, one hopes, for research, for a cure. My challenges are relatively small (pun intended). I want to bring awareness in a different way - one that isn't pink and cheerful. I don't really want to be a part of this survivor/warrior/I-kicked-cancer's-ass club. </p><p>Oh, I'm surviving. Better than that, I'm thriving and to be honest, I feel great in my own skin. Far better than I expected I would. For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable not wearing a bra. My husband's regret is that I didn't discover this freedom back when I had <i>two </i>boobs.</p><p>I'm discreet in public so don't worry about being <i>too</i> aware of breast cancer in the grocery store, say. But I might be wearing a hoodie that says "Uniboober" on it. Or, "one headlight." Or glasses that read, "My boobs were down there."</p><p>Sorry, breast cancer isn't funny. But at some point, one gets tired of crying. If you're facing now, I hope you're hanging in there.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-91608941300756580782020-10-22T12:27:00.003-07:002020-10-22T12:27:40.952-07:00What the actual F?<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Good evening and welcome to "<i>What’s Going on with My Boob?</i>" This episode includes a deep dive into what the actual fuck wherein we will look at who said what to whom and when.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-3a3362d5-7fff-2ea5-89ef-d10ea317247f"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First, we have Dr. E who, if you remember was convinced that Dr. M refused to get involved my treatment. Dr. E now recommends that the patient (me) see Dr. M. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dr. M now has to answer the question, "What the actual fuck?" </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Join me as I interview multiple doctors, surgeons, and heads of very important departments as they all evade actual responsibility for my case. (Maybe they should run for office.)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Do I have cancer? No. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Do I have symptoms? No.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Am I overreacting? Probably.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But, then again, who knows? Stay tuned to see what does or does not develop.</span></p></span>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5211117984363673650.post-20803046974798451692020-10-11T13:54:00.002-07:002020-10-11T13:54:56.417-07:00Into the tunnel<p>And, so, the journey to healing begins. In reality, it probably began when I first sought medical attention. It's the first step in finding a way to be free of a disease or, in this case, free of a condition (that of having an open wound exposing me to infection). You could think of surgery as the beginning but it's really somewhere in the middle. Seeking answers is probably the beginning. Even before, being aware of a problem. </p><p>Each step after that is toward some goal or resolution. Each decision is with an image in mind, a vision of the end result. </p><p>There's a certain "been there, done that" (don't think they have a t-shirt for this yet) mentality this time around. This particular journey didn't start with a diagnosis of cancer. Rather, it is a Groundhog Day version of reconstruction, jumping into the middle of a story already in progress and getting stuck in an never-ending loop. (Although, I sincerely hope this is my last time around this particular track.) My point being, I think even my healthcare providers expect I know what to expect.</p><p>With the cancer diagnosis I was guided through every step. I had a three-inch binder telling me everything I could expect. This time, I'm asking my surgeon's staff things like, "should I sleep on my back or be propped up on pillows?" They look at me and blink saying, "I don't know. I'll ask the doctor." And, then, they never get back to me. In a perverse way, I'm glad I had cancer last year. At least, I received the tools I need to take care of myself this year.</p><p>Hubby is the same. He's been great in the Picking Up The Slack department though I was pretty well organized before the surgery. I got stocked up on groceries and had meals in the freezer. The laundry was done and the sheets had been changed. He hasn't had to do much but I'll give him 5 stars for letting me do nothing.</p><p>In the In Sickness or In Health department, I would give him 3 stars. He hasn't been attentive to my schedule regarding when to take my medications (or times when I need to eat so I can take my meds) or when to empty my drains. I've done that mostly on my own. But, when it came to taking off my bandages, he was right there beside me as I saw myself for the first time without one breast. We dealt with my body's new image together and it was fine. We were ready, supportive, and caring.</p><p>He gets no points for Pampering. I have had zero coffees in bed. Just before surgery, my office mates ponied up a total of $45 to be added to my Starbucks card for my birthday. (They know me so well.) I was already in quarantine in anticipation of the surgery so I couldn't go out to get one for myself and I didn't want to risk Hubby bringing home something more than coffee by going out to get it for me. I told him that I was looking forward to have a triple grande soy latte in bed the day after surgery - the popsicle to my doctor's visit - but three days later, it has yet to materialize. </p><p>I'm griping now because I actually made him coffee.</p><p>Maybe it's more than my body that needs to heal!</p><p>I can tell you that regrets and unfulfilled expectations are no salve and won't do anything to help my body heal. Moving forward, trusting, being patient, and accepting my image as it is - that's what I'm learning. And I'm also learning that small kindnesses are important to me and that it makes me feel good when I do those things for others. </p><p>The surgery went well. The pain and bleeding were minimal. It's only the drain that bothers me now. It's in a very awkward place and I keep getting tangled in the tubing and yanking on the stitches. I'll ask if I can get that removed tomorrow. </p><p>Despite the lack of bedside coffee, there is a light at the tunnel. It's bright and joyful and I'm headed straight for it. All will be well enough.</p>Lynn C Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096334642266196000noreply@blogger.com0