Time for life updates and shit!
So I haven’t written on my blog in about a month! I guess I’ve been busy living life, which is probably a good thing. I am THREE months post chemo now so it’s time for an update!
I’ll start with the hair. The hair on my head is growing, but at a glacial pace. And it looks like I have early male pattern baldness because it’s really sparse and patchy on the top of my head. It’s very Prince William-esq. But on the bright side, I bought a fab new wig that is very Kate Middleton-esq, so it’s a royal win! The hair on the rest of my body seems to have no problem growing. I’m seriously going to invest in laser hair removal soon. I went 4 months without having to shave anything and now that it’s growing again, I feel like Chewbacca. BTW, can you imagine how many sessions Chewbacca would need to laser all his hair off? Just putting that out there.
My eyebrows are back! The eyelashes are back also but they’re really short. I can’t even curl them, so I’m still rocking the falsies when I go out with friends. If you want some amazing ones, check Sephora for their Luxe collection. Mine stayed on overnight and they look fluffy and real.
Also, I’ve had some not-so-cool updates. Last week, when I met with my oncologist we found a lump in my right breast (the one that had cancer) right under the skin. I had it sonogrammed twice and looked at by three different doctors and ALL of them agreed that it was NOT a cancer recurrence. My breast surgeon, who performed the double-mastectomy last year, said it was actually “fat necrosis” which he said was common in women who have had mastectomy operations. Basically, he said that there was a pocket of fat (ew) in my boob and it “died” when they removed all the tissue because it couldn’t get enough blood circulation. So it shriveled up into a ball and died.
So actually, I found the lump first. The morning of my oncologist appointment, I felt my new circus boobs out of curiosity because I knew that she was going to do the same thing at my appointment. Well, fuck. I found that lump and the gates of hell opened up. I was hysterical, hyperventilating, couldn’t breath, couldn’t stop crying. I was a hot mess. HOW could this happen again?? Jeff insisted on going with me to my appointment after he saw how hysterical I was. As soon as my doctor walked into the exam room I burst into tears and screamed with a squeaky, quivering voice that I found a new lump. She quickly assured me that it was nearly impossible that I would have a recurrence this soon after chemo, but nonetheless she scheduled a sonogram, appointment with my breast surgeon, and a PET scan.
I had my PET scan today. My surgeon and oncologist both told me that it probably wasn’t necessary, but since it was already scheduled and approved by my insurance it was up to me if I wanted to do it. To me, it is necessary. Last year when I had the first lump in my boob, I was told by half a dozen doctors that it probably wasn’t cancer and that a biopsy wasn’t necessary. Well I’m fucking done with doctors saying whishy-washy shit like “probably” and “not likely” so I need hard proof these days. I’m not saying I don’t trust the doctors; but, if my health is in question I need actual test results to show if I’m healthy and not an opinion or observation that I’m healthy.
In other news, the PET scan that I insisted on getting was a disaster. For those who have never had a PET scan, what they do is inject you with a radioactive tracer first (which is supposed to detect any cancer cells in the photos), and then you lay down in a big tube thingy that looks kind of like a tanning bed and it scans your body for about 15 minutes. Science. It took three nurses and eight different stabs in my arm to get the tracer IV injected into my arm. EIGHT. Three on the bend in my arm, two on my wrist, and three on the top of my hand. The winner-winner-chicken-dinner was… a vein on my knuckle. Holy shit balls of fire, if someone ever tries to inject a needle into your knuckle you need to stop them and then karate chop them in the throat. I actually almost passed out during the whole ordeal because you also can’t eat food for 12 hours prior to the exam. And yesterday I was forced to eat a carb-free, sugar-free, caffeine-free, alcohol-free prison/torture diet that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. So basically the whole experience sucked a big bag of dicks. (sorry mom)
Afterwards, I stormed out of the hospital godzilla-style, shooting lasers out of my eyes and eating anything in my sight (all while looking like a heroin addict with track marks all over my arms). Seriously though, as soon as I got home I probably ate 3,000 calories worth of food because I was so hangry. I don’t understand how celebs deal with not eating carbs and sugar.
I am told that I’ll get the results on either Friday or Monday. I have a good feeling about this though! I don’t think the cancer is back! But please send good vibes, say prayers, do an Indian dance, pray to your Justin Beiber shrine, whatever. I need that shit. It’s still rattling my nerves hard core that I even need a PET scan, and that I found a lump in my stupid fake boob. Ugh. I’ll update my blog when I get my results so stay tuned. Check those boobs ladies. Ciao betches. Xoxo