Paying the Price for My Vanity

Vanity isn't the only reason I didn't bring my walker to lunch today, but it was a part of it. I feel like I look so much older and sicker with my walker. Then there's convenience. I would rather use the stairs and escalator than go around to the ramp and elevator. There is another reason. My back. I hurt it the other day (ignoring my limits) and didn't think I should lift the walker in and out of the trunk.

So I went to lunch downtown with my cane and had a great visit with my friends from work. After lunch, I stopped to chat with most of them in their offices. I didn't sit down often enough. That's why I should have had the walker, for the seat as much as the handholds.

Before I even got back to my car, I was wiped out and had to stop and sit down. I called my Sweetie on my way home and asked if he wanted me to pick up any groceries for dinner. Then I begged him to say no. I just couldn't face the grocery store. Accelerating and braking were painful. Sigh. By the time I got home I needed to drag myself inside. Straight for the couch.

I suppose that it made matters worse to have taken the dog for a walk, again with cane not walker, this morning. I'm not very bright, am I?

Honestly, There is a bright side to my foolishness. I won't shut myself in the house and wither. My nature is to regularly forget or ignore my limits. I just like to know where they are.

A Milestone: 20,000 Page Views

Wow! Sometime in the last couple of days, this blog has hit a milestone I never anticipated: 20,000 page views. This is something that merits celebration, and gratitude.

I started my cancer blog after a short career as a geaneablogger (about family history) mostly as a way to keep family and friends aware of how my treatment was going. I knew many were getting the info through my mom and their parents. I'm sure some details got lost in translation. It was also difficult to tell the whole story over and over. My blog gave me a chance to write it down, once and for all.

My secondary purpose for the blog was to raise awareness of breast cancer. For a while, I gave my readers a monthly reminder to "check your boobs!" I think I felt that I might have caught my cancer earlier if I had done regular self-examinations. Then, as I became more educated about breast cancer, I realized that self-exams and mammograms aren't the be all and end all for finding cancer. That's when I dropped the words "breast cancer awareness" from the blog's title and went for the straightforward "Kate Has Cancer."

I received some criticism for the change. Is it defeatist to call myself Kate Has Cancer on the blog and Twitter? No, it's realistic. Remember, I have Stage IV breast cancer. I have had advanced cancer since they found it. Chemo, radiation and the other therapies have shrunken my tumours -- you can't even feel the one in my breast -- but many of them are still there in my liver and bones. My blood tests are fine. so I figure, if my liver can live with these tumours, then so can I!

Over time, another purpose for my blogging has emerged. I hope that others with advanced breast cancer can find, in my blog, some peace, some information and some hope. I don't focus on the latest news from clinical oncology. I talk about my treatments and the resources available to me here in Ottawa. Judging by the Blogger Stats, my most popular post, with nearly 600 page views, is perhaps my most practical one, on PICC line covers. I hope my link to a crochet pattern helped someone with cancer or even someone who wanted to help someone with cancer. I've had 800 views of my About Kate page, which I imagine could use an update. Almost 400 read my early post about how I started onto this cancer roller-coaster. Around 300 read two of my glimpses into the terror of Stage IV cancer, Reflections on Recent Deaths and Someone Took the Monster Out of the Cupboard. I have seen my readership rise to, on average, 200 page views per post. I never expected this. I may be Italian, but I don`t have that many cousins!

That brings me to the grateful part. I thank you readers for continuing to read and support me. Your comments on the blog have given me new perspectives and great support. I also thank God that I'm still here to write! Every day, every post is a blessing. I must also express my appreciation to my fellow bloggers who have directed considerable traffic my way: Ann at Breast Cancer? But Doctor....I Hate Pink!, Nancy at Nancy's Point, Jenny at Putting the GRRRRR in Grimes, and Nancy at The Dirty Pink Underbelly.

I hope to be here many more years. And I hope you stick with me. Thanks for coming.

Flashback to the Biopsy Table

"But my girl's only eight," I cried! The radiologist and technician stopped making their "no need to worry" noises as the image on their ultrasound screen became clear.

I knew, before the needle biopsy. The CT had already shown apparent metastacized tumours in my liver and bones. We could feel the breast tumour. It wasn't pea sized. It was huge. I knew what this meant.

"But my girl's only eight!"

Can you hear the terror in my voice? I can hear the paper on the biopsy table, under me and feel the cotton robe against my cold, frightened skin. I can see the dim light coming in from that north-facing window. And I can feel the terror. Not that I might lose my life, that's not the issue. That my daughter's health and happiness would forever be tainted by my diagnosis, by my prognosis.

I will need a miracle to survive this disease. But every morning that I can face my dear girl with a smile is a miracle for which I thank God.

How it Started: October was Breast Cancer Awareness Month

It is ironic that I was diagnosed with breast cancer in October, breast cancer awareness month.

I was one of those people that was -- let's be honest -- annoyed by the pinkness of October.  Pink ribbon this, breast cancer that.  Blah, blah, blah, we're all aware of breast cancer.  Or are we?

Apparently my awareness of a couple of key concepts regarding breast cancer was appallingly, life-threateningly low.  I was aware that breast cancer exists.  My awareness pretty much stopped there.

I thought that as long as I didn't have a family history of breast cancer, I had no real risk of developing it.   Anyone who knows me, knows my maternal grandmother died only recently.  She was days short of her 99th birthday.  Her own mother died in her mid-nineties.  I'm a smart girl, so my conclusion from these two "facts" was that I would certainly live to 100.

The thing is, only a small, small proportion of breast cancer patients actually do have a close family history of breast cancer.  If I looked far enough, I would find at least one grandaunt with breast cancer.  And my grandmother's longevity is no guarantee for me.

So, there I was, on our Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, processing the very real prospect that I had metastacized breast cancer.  Within a couple of weeks, a core needle biopsy confirmed that I have Invasive Ductal Breast Cancer which had spread to my liver and bones.  Stage IV breast cancer.

Suddenly, I was aware that I hadn't checked my own breasts for lumps in a long, long time.  Too long.

I hope that I can help improve breast cancer awareness among others, ideally before they are diagnosed with this disease.  But from my own experience, I know that you have to have your eyes open.  I've learned that I'm not invincable, nor immortal.  Neither are you.

Let the awareness begin.