An Unexpected Surprise!

Today was kind of challenging and by the time evening came around I was feeling a little bit sorry for myself.

There's a group of people I get together with every Sunday night in Boulder. As I drove up there earlier this evening in a snowstorm I thought to myself, "Maybe I'm doing too much and I should have cancelled tonight." When I arrived, I noticed one of the women was wearing a HOT PINK sweater with sparkles on it and I thought to myself, "Wow, I wonder why she's so dressed up tonight."

Then I noticed EVERYONE was wearing pink, even the men! I was incredibly touched by their thoughtful and loving way of telling me that they're rooting for me. Thank you to my Sunday Night Group for your love and support and for lifting my spirits tonight. Check out this hilarious video:



We all saw a new side of Shaun (the 6 foot tall macho looking guy wearing the pink tutu)!

Countdown - Getting Ready

For those of you who know me well, you know that I love planning down to the intricate detail level when I go on a vacation. So I'm approaching this surgery just as if I were planning for a big trip.

I'm taking a leave from Cisco to prepare mentally and physically for the surgery. This week I plan to spend several hours a day with my Blackerry turned off and FEEL my emotions (hard to believe I know, some people have asked if I'll tuck it under my hospital gown before the surgery). I need to clear my head and process through whatever comes up.

As one of my friends put it, "There's no emotion around losing an organ such as an appendix or a gall bladder -- but a breast has so many connotations and is connected to your core femininity, childbearing, self image, and of course your sexuality." I'll still be the same person after the mastectomy and the plastic surgeon can make a physically perfect replica, but there's a process of grieving and loss involved that can't be denied.

I know the surgery is unavoidable and necessary for my future health and well being, and by moving through this process and feeling the emotions I will emerge to live a joyful, resilient, and healthy life. Yes, I'll have a few battle scars but they will serve as proud testament to the fact that I've joined the community of survivors who have conquered this disease.

And what the heck, since I'm planning to use my own body tissue vs. an implant, it's like getting a free tummy tuck in the process!

Pac-Man

For all of you Baby Boomers, I'm sure you remember the "old school" video game back in the late '70s called Pac-Man. There was a Pac-Man machine in just about every bar (not that I frequented the bars back then, my friends told me about it - NOT!)

Well, I have a new game that I play in my mind when I go to sleep at night. It's called "Cancer Pac-Man" - I envision those f---ing tumors in my body and picture the Pac-Man destroying them over and over.

My sons will tell you I'm not much of a computer game person nowadays but I must admit that back in the day I was pretty damn good at Pac-Man.

Getting it All Together

There's a great resource at St. Joseph, an oncology social worker by the name of Jeanice. The advice she gave me this week was invaluable:

"Get everything unnecessary off your plate so you can clear your mind and focus on the decisions you need to make."

I'm taking her advice to heart and delegating to those who ask how they can help, which will allow me to relax, absorb the firehose of information I'm receiving, and prepare mentally for the surgery on March 8. My heroes this week:

Stephen - My partners are in good hands, thanks for stepping up to bat
Laura - Thank you for being my research queen!
Judy - Thanks for the wonderful, soul-soothing time in San Diego last weekend
Marlys - Mucho Gracias for organizing the meals to keep me healthy
Marlene - Thanks for rescuing me from my very own "19th Nervous Breakdown"

Peace and Love,

Nancy

Good News!

I heard from the radiologist that the tests from earlier this week all came back benign!!! I believe that all of your positive prayers and support are playing a big role in the positive outcome I am experiencing. More later but I wanted to share the great news as soon as possible. I'm going to celebrate tonight with my sons. Bring on the champagne!!

This means that the cancer is totally contained in the left breast and the right one is completely normal so the surgery and post-treatment will be that much easier.

Family

I've been thinking a lot about the importance of family lately and how lucky I am to have the family I have: My wonderful brothers Alan and Jimmy, my amazingly strong mother who is in declining health but still vibrant in her own way, my nieces and nephews (who help their parents keep up with the blog), and of course my rocks Andy and Will. Here's a recent picture that was taken at my brother Jimmy's retirement luncheon after 27 years with the FBI, as well as a photo of me with my mom taken several months ago. I love you all and really appreciate your support!

Special thanks to my niece Lindsay for you and all of your friends wearing pink bracelets in my honor, and to my brothers who check in on me religiously to make sure I'm hanging in there.

Videos of my Caregivers

These are the wonderful people who are my caregivers at St. Joseph Breast Care Center and Rocky Mountain Cancer Center. THEY ROCK!!

Learning to Let Go

Yesterday brought yet another MRI with a biopsy, this time to check out something suspect on the right side (try staying still for 30 minutes while they poke you with a needle, not easy). Somehow this procedure put me over the edge emotionally, realizing that I'm not in control of this situation and I have to put my faith in my doctors and focus what I CAN control, which is staying positive and being healthy. Instead of being the "strong one" all the time, I need to accept help from my family and friends. I'm also learning that it's ok to be angry and cry, in fact it's healthy!

Bottom Line: Although everyone wants to help, there are excruciating moments when you realize this journey is a solitary one, and on the other side somewhere is a place where I will look back from the top of the mountain and know that I have won the battle. I'm still working on getting the Flip video uploaded so stay tuned on that one - technically challenged. Special thanks to eveyone for their positive vibes and support, especially-

Nancy P - love the healing music, it is helping me sleep
Nancy H,Patty and Marlene - for accompanying me to my doctor appointments
My neice Laurie - for mentioning me in your blog
Michelle - for not making me feel guilty about work

I love you all -

Nancy

A Day With the Medical Professionals

I spent most of today at the St. Joseph Breast Center, an amazing ecosystem with everything under one roof. Their goal is to make it easy for you to have access to the surgeon, radiologist, ultrasound and other diagnostic people in one facility so you don't have to go from one place to another hauling your records around. The staff here (see video) are so welcoming and kind that it makes the experience as pleasant as it can be considering the circumstances. The doctors are concerned about something on last week's MRI results, so tomorrow they plan to do another MRI combined with a special biopsy just to make sure all is ok with the right breast. My day ended with a 2 hour appointment with the oncologist at Rocky Mountain Cancer Center, who will recommend a course of treatment after the surgery, which will probably take place the week after next. I can't say enough about the people who work at the St. Joseph Breast Center.

Here's a brief synopsis of my day via Flip video! I really appreciate everyone's words of encouragement and I'm happy to report that 7 of my friends have scheduled their overdue mammograms as a direct result of this experience. My goal is to get 100 women to schedule their overdue mammograms so I now have only 93 to go!

The New Journey Begins

Life has a way of knocking the wind out of you once in a while. When I celebrated New Year’s with my sons Andy and Will in Thailand on our “trip of a lifetime” several weeks ago, little did I know I was heading for a truly life-changing journey in less than 30 days. As I do every year, I had my routine annual mammogram in January and considered it just another nuisance to squeeze into my busy schedule. I joked with Pat, the mammogram tech, that I was wearing my lucky Buddha necklace Will had bought for me during our trip to Asia. After the appointment I raced out to my car and went home to start my usual hectic workday.

Several days later, the mammogram facility’s phone number flashed on my Blackberry’s Caller ID. I thought “That’s weird, they usually send a letter in the mail telling me my results are normal.” I answered the phone, little knowing how that call would change my life.

“Hi Ms. Miller, the radiologist who read your mammogram results wants a retake. No worries, but we’d like you to come in as soon as possible.” GULP . . . a little butterfly started fluttering around in my stomach. I made an appointment for the following week and immediately called my OB-Gyn, who reassured me that this was quite common, and 99% of the time it’s nothing to worry about. So much for statistics.

I returned to the St. Joseph Breast Care Center on February 12, annoyed that my Friday afternoon was being interrupted by this silly procedure. I undressed, put on a gown, and strolled into the room where Pat was waiting for me. “Hop on over and let’s make this thing go away so you can get on with your weekend,” she said. After the procedure I stood around tapping my feet, thinking of everything I had to do that day, and checked the appointment off my ""To Do list on my trusty Blackberry. Several minutes later Pat popped her head in and said the radiologist wanted to do a quick ultrasound.

That’s when the REAL jitters started. I was led to a room with an imposing amount of equipment, told to lie on the table and wait for the ultrasound technician. “I’m not nervous,” I said unconvincingly to myself. “They probably just saw something innocuous and I’ll be out of here in 30 minutes after they confirm nothing is amiss.” A technician entered the room and performed the procedure, which lasted about 15 minutes. More waiting . . . this time no feet tapping, as I was lying prone on the examining table. A bit later Dr. Schroeder, the radiologist, entered the room and explained that he saw a mass he suspected was cancerous, and conducted a second ultrasound. Immediately I began the firehose of questions: “Could it be scar tissue, calcification, fibrous tissue, or something else benign?” He shook his head from side to side. “Not likely. The ulstrasound has also revealed a second mass that wasn’t picked up on the mammogram. I’d suggest a biopsy is in order.”

Stunned silence is the only way I can describe my reaction. (For those of you who know me well, not much makes me speechless.) Thoughts raced through my head: “This can’t be happening to me. There’s no cancer of any kind in my family, I’m healthy, I don’t smoke, and I’m sure this is all a mistake.” The radiologist went on to say that 85% of breast cancers are diagnosed in women exactly like me, the poster child with no history of cancer in their family and no risk factors. They numbed the skin, completed the biopsy, conducted yet another mammogram, bandaged me up, and sent me on my way. The weekend went by in a blur, with visitors from Aspen and a few of my close female friends at my side. Monday morning the radiologist called and said the biopsy results indicated two aggressive tumors and told me the next step was an MRI to see if there were any other masses in my breasts and/or lymph nodes.

On Tuesday morning my friend Patty accompanied me to the MRI and the results came back that afternoon: Three separate masses in the left breast, nothing in the right breast, and no sign of anything in the lymph nodes. My friends have rallied around me like a mother bear with her cub.

I’ve been astounded by a few things:

• Several friends are accompanying me on all of my medical appointments

• Others have offered to take care of my dogs

• Numerous people have offered to come to Denver if I need ANYTHING

• People have come out of the woodwork to share their stories of breast cancer survival, which is perhaps the most uplifting of all

• Offers of food are flying in – of course I am accepting all!

• At least 5 of my friends who’ve been putting off their own mammograms have scheduled them

• One friend has offered to be my “Web boy toy” and redesign my blog. (Did it take cancer for me to have a boy toy?)

This is the beginning of a new journey and I want to acknowledge the overwhelming love and support from everyone, every single minute of every day. I am comforted by you when I wake up in a panic in the middle of the night. My hope is this blog will spur women on to get their mammograms annually, especially for those of you who have been putting it off, for whatever reason. I’m documenting this process with my Flip Video . . . here is posting #1.

Next step: Meeting with the surgeon and oncologist, scheduled for this upcoming week.