Waking up before down is So Wrong

Okay, I just saw a commercial on TV for Lean Cuisine (and why are they advertising this before breakfast anyway?!) and while their foods ARE pretty decent for frozen entrees, and they helpfully skip preservatives:

• frozen entrees NEVER taste as good as they look on the box
• frozen entrees NEVER taste as good as fresh entrees, or even leftovers (but I prefer them over processed foods), so I just can't get very excited about them; I look at them as convenient, portion-controlled lunches for the office
  
• the woman in the ad was eating at LEAST the equivalent of 2 (or even 3!) boxes -- LC entrees are the size or airplane meal entrees (remember those?) and THAT woman was eating something as big as an (American) restaurant entree

Welcome to my ruminations during insomniac television viewing.

Oh, and then I proceeded to eat about 1/3 of cup of nuts, which is about 20% of my daily WW points (if I were actually tracking at the moment -- I'm giving myself a hiatus during treatment, but trying not to gain TOO much weight since I bought all these damn new clothes!) or about a Snickers bar worth of calories (but at least it's more nutritious AND it allows me to take my morning Aleve tablet).

Yeah, I'm in a bad mood. The photo above was taken about 2 hours after I woke up... yes, before dawn. Yes, before my engineer. That's just: So Wrong.

So: sleeplessness + agitation + lethargy + tearfulness + oases of calm = my general state of mind. Apparently, this is kind of normal, or my new normal: "...women dealing with breast cancer often swing between feeling very distressed and remarkably calm" according to Living Through Breast Cancer: What a Harvard Doctor -- And Survivor -- Wants You To Know About Getting The Best Care While Preserving Your Self-Image". Well, at least it's good to know that I'm not completely crazy, just understandably nuts.

So it was really comforting to attend a breast cancer support group meeting yesterday @ MSKCC. These are all women in the midst of adjuvant therapy, which I am about to start on the 13th.

Despite their many challenges (most of the women have had either a single or double mastectomy, which can include removal of the underlying pectoral muscles as well) they were all handling it with grace, humor, and positive attitudes. I was truly humbled.

That is not to say that there weren't any problems discussed (if it was all happiness and light, we wouldn't need a support group now, would we?) and that a box of Kleenex wasn't killed, but they can be my role models, no?

Although my life lately has revolved around medical appointments (see the collection of medical business cards I've accumulated?) -- and I felt like compared to these ladies, I had a little "baby" cancer, with "chemo-lite" -- they were all so welcoming and encouraging. To me, December 30th (the day I received my diagnosis) seems long ago, but they assured me firmly that as cancer goes, it's merely the blink of an eye, and that discovering you have breast cancer is upsetting, no matter the size or stage.

Their comments about time were eye-opening. (This would be why support groups are GOOD. Duh.) Think about it: my "mild" treatment for a "small" (1.1 cm) stage I tumor consists of surgery + chemo + radiation, which will last for most of a year (32 weeks -- and we're not even counting the follow up checkups) but these women have treatments which last for years, plural.

It's like the parent that screams at their kid once they find them after being lost: now that the immediate stressors have passed (lumpectomy + uncooperative incision) it's finally all sinking in, especially since [surprise!] I get a bonus round of chemo. So these days I frequently feel like bursting into tears. Bleh.

So let's review the timeline, shall we?

1. Dec. 9 - my gynecologist finds a lump during my annual checkup
2. Dec. 23 - I am able to squeeze in on the Columbia-Presbyterian mammography calendar; also have an ultrasound which confirms that yep, there is definitely SOMEthing unfriendly in my boob
3. Dec. 26 - core needle biopsy at Columbia-Presbyterian
4. Dec. 30 - my gynecologist calls with the happy news: Stage I breast cancer, approx. 6 or 7 mm
5. Jan. 19 - consultation w/ my breast surgeon at Sloan-Kettering; agree to do a lumpectomy w/ sentinel lymph node biopsy
6. Jan. 23 - MRI
7. Jan. 26 - various pre-surgical tests to clear me healthwise for the procedure
8. Jan. 29 - lymphatic mapping of left axilla region at the Nuclear Medicine Dept. of Sloan; I get a "she's not a terrorist" card from MSKCC in case I set off any govt geiger counters; 1st day of short-term disability leave
   
9. Jan. 30 - surgery
10. Feb. 10 - 1st follow up visit; return to work date pushed off from Feb. 11
    
11. Feb. 16 - 2nd follow up visit; return to work date pushed off to Mar. 5
12. Feb. 25 - 3rd follow up visit; return to work date of Mar. 5 looks good
13. Mar. 4 - 4th follow up visit
14. Mar. 5 - return to work (looking good so far)
    
15. Mar. 13 - 1st chemo treatment; repeat every 3 weeks...
    until...
    
16. Jun. 5 - 6th & final chemo treatment
17. all of July - radiation treatment for 25 weekdays
    

I know that my friends are being supportive by reminding me that the tumor is gone, but I guess in my mind my cancer won't be gone (or at least banished) until I finish all of my treatment. It's hard to think of it being in the past when you're always scheduling your next medical appointment. (Really, you should see my Palm Pilot -- it's mapped out to July.)

And I don't feel like a breast cancer survivor yet -- to me, survivor implies that I actively did something, like emerge from a plane crash. (Hell, I haven't even actively cleaned my damn apartment!) Instead, I am benefiting from the excellent care and services of Sloan-Kettering (and they ARE pretty wonderful), which seems kind of passive. (My friend Marci made some highly relevant rejoinders to this view, but I am too tired to recall them at the moment.)

So yes, perhaps it is high time that I return to work on March 5th. It will give me something to think about besides CANCER and the fact that my engineer will be out of the country from then until the 21st. Besides, I am actually starting to get sucked back into occasionally watching The Young & The Restless. Yes, definitely time to go back to work next week, before I rot what's left of my mind.

So okay, on a cheerful note, today is my mom's 80th birthday, according to the Chinese calendar (which is the one SHE cares about) so we are going out to dinner to celebrate: her, me, my sister & brother-in-law, my older niece & her husband, and their 2 little boys. The double orchid below, (there are 2 stalks in the pot), but only one in this photo) with many buds yet to bloom (see? on the far right), is my present to her.