Mammogram Today

One of the things I hate most about living with cancer is all the tests and scans. They take too much time out of my life, and they make me anxious.

I just got home from having my annual mammogram on my left (one-and-only) breast.

The test itself isn't bad, although that final twist of the clamp HURTS, and I'm not too worried about the results, even though I know one in 10 women who have had breast cancer in one breast get a second cancer in the other breast at some point (not sure what the stats are for women like me, with metastatic disease--I always figure they should be lower, because I'm doing chemo most of the time) ...

So why was my blood pressure up around 150 over 90 (I'm guessing, but that's how high it felt)? Major wave of anxiety during and after the exam.

Of course, I know the reason: flashback to how my life with cancer started, with a mammogram.

But in the nine and a half years since then I've gotten better at recognizing and coping with anxiety. So I decided to walk home--exercise really helps get rid of the physical effects of anxiety, and I called two of my closest friends and left them messages about what was going on.

One called me back a few minutes later and we talked as I was walking, until I got to a bridge over the freeway and couldn't hear, so had to hang up.

I stopped on the way home and bought a healthy burrito (Taco del Mar--is there any other kind?) for a late lunch/early dinner, and after I feed the kittens I'm going to crash out and read for awhile.

Today's experience was kind of funny, because just this morning I'd gotten an e-mail from a woman with metastatic breast cancer who has just started on Tykerb and is having a tough time with it. After asking me to compare symptoms (we cancer patients do that a lot with others on the same drugs), she asked how I managed to stay so upbeat all the time.

Here's part of my reply:

I don't stay upbeat all the time. No one could. I write about the bad days, too. And sometimes, like last Monday, I just have to take a day off and stay in bed and give in to all the bad feelings, depression, whatever. And I also have a really good therapist, and friends who will listen to me rant and rave if I need to. And the blog has been great, because of the friends I've met.

It's really tough. Just do the best you can and don't beat yourself up about it if you have a bad day or bad week or whatever.

The last thing I want is another cancer patient feeling bad because she thinks she isn't coping as well as I am. That's not what my blog is all about. And she's having a hard time right now, and I'm sailing along fairly well. Except for the post-mammogram blues, which are pretty much gone.

@ Jeanne Sather 2008.

Comments

[Dee]

I just want to say Ditto about not being upbeat all the time. I had a really bad day and like you, I called upon my friends (including you) to rant and rave - cried a lot - then got lots of hugs and support. You begin to realize that days like that will pass and then you're be feeling better. I'm learning how to turn that corner more quickly - like talking to folks, crying my eyes out, accepting support, my friends make me laugh, and then I am fortunate that I like my work, so it's easy to frustrate myself. And, then, what really helped the other day was "Alvin and the Chipmunks". Didn't particularly like them singing back in the day, but my son likes the movie, especially when they sing "Funkytown". So, singing "Funkytown" in a chipmunk voice helped chased the blues away. How could it not? LOL

[Dee]

Holy cow! I must be tired. I just read what I wrote and some of it doesn't make sense! Jeanne, can you delete that? LOL I want to comment on this one, but maybe when I'm feeling more awake and can be coherent. JEEZ!

[Carver]

Hi Jeanne, I am glad the mammogram is behind you. I can relate although it's obviously not the same since I don't have breast cancer. I wanted to tell you that reading this post is reminding me that I'm due for a mammogram. Melanoma patients are at a slightly higher risk for breast cancer than the general population and the NP at my ONCS always reminds me to get it once a year. I was reminded in March, and promptly forgot to make the appointment. I'll admit that I'd like to blow it off and hope the PET scan would catch anything but I know it wouldn't catch it as soon. Knowing that you recently had a PET and sucked it up with all you have going on to get the mammogram is giving me a nudge to stop putting off the one I'm due this year.

[Dee]

Okay, let's see if I can be more coherent:
I just wanted to say that I had a really bad day earlier this week, but I am learning how to turn that around more quickly. I acknowledge that I feel shitty or fragile and I called out to friends and even posted that on my blog. My friends and colleagues stepped up and gave me support and hugs and for that I'm very grateful. I don't think I would've been able to shake that bad mood as quickly as I did without them. I am just thankful that I have my work because it is a good DISTRACTION (not frustration! criminy!). And, yes, the movie, Alvin and the Chipmunks, helped. Imagine a grown woman and a child singing "Funkytown" in a high voice! You can't help but laugh!

[jeanne]

Carver--good for you!

I find it tough to go for all these scans, so I appreciate the understanding.

Dee--I think that first comment is coherent, but I can delete it if you want.

NOW--I want to hear you sing Alvin and the Chipmunks when I come to visit!

And I do think that the one thing I've learned from all these years of living with cancer is how to cope with the emotions. Sometimes the best way to cope is to just let her rip. Which reminds me I haven't written my review of "After the Wedding" yet. Just let me say that the guy who has cancer in that great film has a scene where he just lets go--cries and wails with snot running down his face ... and it made me realize how tightly I am wound. I can't let it out like that. Don't think I ever have--and I wish I could.

[debutaunt]

No one is all unicorns and rainbows 24/7 even if you don't have a chronic illness. That is unreal or maybe medicated a little too much.

All cancer patients are scared sh*tless most of the time, but you just put on a brave face for your loved ones. You pretend to be this fierce warrior, but it's not like you have a choice to not deal with it (well I guess you can... but).

I always tried to laugh through my tears and just tell myself, "it is what it is." You can chose to cope or freakout. I found trying to cope and laugh and cry and just deal was easier than spending every day on freakout x11.

The blogging absolutely helped. I started to deal with my divorce from my ex husband and not be in a grouchy mood around my then 3 year old daughter. It helps and is cheaper than therapy. Plus I have an entire world of new friends - many whom I have actually met.

Hugs to you on the boob pancake test. I hate when they squish your armpit nodes. I get mine again in August. But my tech was fast and good. Not too uncomfortable.

[Dee]

Jeanne, I guess you don't have to delete the comment - it sounded worse the first time I read it.

Trust me, Jeanne, you don't really want me to sing Funkytown like Alvin and the Chipmunks. I think I'm tone deaf, can't carry a tune and THEN you have to do that high pitched voice! Eddie endures it . . . but he often tells me to stop singing. Really!

And, I'm becoming a bigger fan of let 'er rip. Most of my life, when I cried, I would try to contain it. Lately, I've tried to let it all out, instead of tamping it down and keep it inside. Takes too much energy. And, like Debs, I've also laughed through tears this week.

[jeanne]

Dee--me too! Can't carry a tune, tone deaf or something ... wish I could sing, like Carver.

[jeanne]

I just called today (Thursday) to get my mammogram results, and it looks like everything is fine.

So that's one stressful thing off my plate.

Also called and set up an appt. to have the suspicious mole removed. That's next week, Tuesday.