Today I started that little white pill Tamoxifen again. I stopped taking it in October when we were trying to determine what was making me crazy dizzy. It was decided that I would just wait until after my final breast reconstruction to start taking it again so I wasn’t starting and stopping and starting and stopping. I need to be on Tamoxifen for the long term for it to be effective.
If you are unfamiliar with how Tamoxifen works. It “looks” like estrogen to cells that use estrogen to reproduce. They pick up the Tamoxifen in place of estrogen and it inhibits their growth. I found this chart that shows how it works vs. cells that do not have an estrogen receptor (triple negative is a type of breast cancer that does not have estrogen, progesterone of HER2/nue receptors – this is a scary type of breast cancer to me because you have less targeted treatment options in your arsenal). Her2/nue receptive is also considered to be a more aggressive type (I didn’t have this, my aunt did), Herceptin has really helped in the fight against that particular type of breast cancer cell.
What Tamoxifen does in breast cancer with estrogen receptors.
This also means your normal cells that would use estrogen are also blocked from using it, so you have side effects like menopause, because your body is not getting and using the estrogen it may be accustomed to (so nothing is done to slow down estrogen production that I am aware of, just how your body uses it).
I am having good days and bad days as I heal. I keep trying not to push it, but it is hard to sit through life with your arms behind your back and do nothing. Mike has been home with me since surgery and went back to work today. I am resting most of the time and have my surgical follow up with my plastic surgeon on Friday. I am going to have to play “where did you stick that muscle” because the last time I had this surgery I could see and feel exactly where the latissimus flap was placed (plus it was still attached to some of the skin – sounds gross…). This time he didn’t use the skin and he did something with it differently for aesthetic reasons (I can see where it is under my arm, but once it hits the implant, BAM hidden). He told me he did something different, but now I am just deathly curious just what that means.
My fever calmed down Saturday and I haven’t had a fever since. So hopefully we cleared the infection before it got very far.
My back has been the area that has been giving me trouble this time (last time it was my front, but I remembered that last time they had to get the skin separated from my chest wall to get the expander in, and this surgery the space was already there). I think that the funky white top has been helping keep swelling down and has been adding a bit of pressure that helps with pain. I stopped pain medication Saturday and I was back on them Sunday. I am back off of them today. My level of cranky goes up at rate that I am in pain, this graph illustrates the cranky to pain ratio we have going on here (the rate at which my pain increases the cranky increases):
This past year is a bit of a blur in different ways. There are so many ways I could talk about my experiences, hopeful, angry, sad, scared – there are so many emotions tied to the cancer roller coaster. Here is the video I made after I finished radiation with photos from my treatment:
Last night I got the rude awakening that I am not out of the woods yet. I was running a fever, I was sooo cold that under 6 blankets and a robe I was shivering. I called the on call physician, I was at 100.8 when I called, he explained that it was most likely an infection and sent me to a 24 hour pharmacy to get back on Augmentin (one of the “big guns” antibiotics, sooo been there and done that, I believe it was originally described to me as causing “sudden and unexpected diarrhea”). I was told that I got to go hang at the ER if I got up to 102. I reached 101.9 which wasn’t 102 so I stayed home. Today I have a mild fever, but it is not peaking into the danger zone. My hope for today is to be able to celebrate my birthday at home rather than a hospital (fingers crossed). I am drama, I swear… Nothing seems to ever go quite as planned.
I love that the American Cancer Society is the Official Sponsor of Birthdays. Today is my 32nd birthday, and I no longer grit my teeth at getting older, instead I celebrate another year of life.
My little brother posted this on Facebook yesterday:
“Exactly one year ago my sister called me to me to me she has stage IIb (in lymph nodes) grade III (very aggressive) breast cancer at the age of 31. I remember vividly driving into work on a snowy day to take care of something on my day off. I was scared and crying when my sister said she had a 2.5cm tumor. My sister is one of my favorite people (if not my favorite) in my life and is my muse (I have to include my mom in the muse category.)
Now a year later her treatment is finished. I’m often asked if her cancer is “gone.” There are no guarantees in life and if it comes back it would most likely happen in the next five years, and that is why she is on a drug called Tamoxifen (it messes with her body’s estrogen) for that time period.
They say breast cancer will occur in 1/8 women in the US during their lifetime. If caught early, it is very treatable. Women should start having mammograms at age 40 or earlier if you have other risk factors. Self checks are important because that’s how my sister caught hers.
My sister kept saying “I don’t know how anyone could go through this alone,” when she would see people alone at appointments. She had a wicked awesome support group, from her husband, friends, family and even strangers who had gone through the same thing. My family is very excited to put 2011 behind us, and this will hopefully be my last post about breast cancer.”
Everyone assumes that you are automatically in remission after you finish your treatment (which when you include Tamoxifen, which I start again next Tuesday) I have 5 years left in my cancer treatment. That is 6 years. Anyone who has had cancer or has been close to someone who has had cancer knows that the real fight actually starts after treatment. What this also means is that I can’t even consider having children until I am 37 (it was never in the big plans, but life changes). If I am still able to have children.
You fight the “what if’s” what if I am not here 5 years from now (recurrence usually occurs year 2-3 but can happen as far as 10 years out). Recurrence is stage 4 for me, and there is no cure for metastatic breast cancer. What if I am making the wrong choices in my life if I have a limited life in front of me? Everyone wants to hear that I am fine, and when it comes to the battles of chemo, radiation etc. I am great! I don’t look sick (of course I didn’t when we found out either). It is frustrating at times for my family because all we can do now is wait and hope. For now I stand in Cancer Limbo Land (best described by another blogger).
What I have learned this year:
Let others help you
I am stubborn, I want to do everything and I hate to have to rely on other people. One of my early lessons was to take a step back and accept help from others. I have made new friendships with women going through treatment, those who had been before me, deepened my relationship with my extended family and developed a whole new level of trust and love with my husband. I have needed and am grateful for the help I have received.
Family is important
For years I have been craving moving somewhere tropical and warm, but having my support group close really makes me rethink the whole moving thing. I want to stay close to my family so that we can celebrate life. I always had a big crew when it was time to go to chemo, surgery or my appointments. Cancer is a very lonely thing and I was never alone. Mike and I have been pretty inseparable this past year.
Don’t wait for happiness to come to you, create your own happiness
I do my fair share of complaining, but I try to find the funny and the good in the most difficult of situations. If you spend your life complaining about how bad everything is for you, you are probably missing all of the good things that you have. It is really the little things that make life so grand, enjoy the little things when you can.
I hope everyone has a safe and very Happy New Year! Let’s make 2012 the best year EVER!
I was diagnosed with breast cancer on December 30, 2010. I am sort of able to type now, so I figured I needed to get in a post. A few words, rest, a few words, rest. Amazing how much you use your chest to type. IPads and phones are ok, but the laptop is a challenge.
The were pretty far behind on Tuesday when we were waiting for me to go into surgery. Luckily they didn’t have us come in super early, but waiting makes me antsy. My support crew Tuesday was my mom, dad, little brother Dereck and Mike. We were a little goofy, so every time someone had to deal with us we managed to get a giggle or two.
Making sure I smile while I wait.
My mom and Mike tortured me with the scent of their delicious coffee in the waiting room.
They do in fact operate on zombies, since this was me right before surgery.
The moment came where the dreaded IV was an issue. The nurse couldn’t get one in, so the anesthesiologist was given the task in the OR with laughing gas. This time he grabbed a vein in my hand to get me to sleep, but it was too small for actual surgery, so he got my foot once I was out cold. I had let them know that the last couple of times I had come out of surgery thinking I was going to throw up and they told me they would take additional measures to try to keep me from getting nausea after surgery.
Where they were taking skin and the latissimus from the left side. You can see the matching scar on my right.
I came out of surgery feeling fantastic. It was strange. No nausea, I was chatty, we got me my ice chips and before I knew it I was whisked away to my room. Everyone was surprised to see me with a smile on my face (even with a foot IV). As soon as I got to the room I complained that the nipple was in the wrong place (priorities, priorities – I had peeked under the fancy white huge ugly bra they have you wear). The new implants sit completely different from the expanders, as soon as I was able to I got a look in the mirror and verified that they were in fact in the right place.
They managed my pain well through the first night and I woke up pretty energetic Wednesday. I was eating and drinking so they took me off the IV and switched me to oral pain meds. The nurse felt like I could go home so she had my doctor come see me before he went into surgery. I told him that I noticed he didn’t use the skin flap on the left side, he said he ended up just placing the muscle without the skin because I ended up with a huge lump where the muscle was and it didn’t look as good. They did cut out some of the skin area on my right side before they placed the new implant. They did send me home Wednesday.
Thursday Mike made me breakfast in bed, put away all of the Christmas stuff, cleaned the house and made a huge dinner. Unfortunately about an hour before dinner was ready I started throwing up and I had a migraine. I was not feeling well at all. I called the hospital this morning and had them switch me to lortabs to see if the headaches and nausea will go away. I don’t feel much pain as long as I stay laying flat on my back.
I have to wear the compression top for 3 weeks to hold the implants in place while everything heals. I only ended up with 3 drains, which is very manageable. Everything looks better than I had hoped it would look, so I am pretty happy. I imagine it will be even better after I heal. Also…
I love my friends, all of you, each and every one. I have to butter everyone up before I mention a topic that has come up many times with friends. I probably would have said something similar in your shoes… The topic: my “free boob job.”
In January when I was getting my mastectomy my friends would comment that at least I was getting a free boob job out of everything. That is one of those moments I would bite my tongue, take a deep breath, smile and laugh. My response “yes, if you would call it that…” With my next surgery coming up, it is a comment that I am hearing again. I don’t know how you are supposed to respond to someone talking about breast reconstruction and I understand where the comment comes from. I can have a tendency to say the wrong things when people tell me something about cancer or something related to a traumatizing event in their or my lives. I am not totally offended, it just makes me uncomfortable, so I figured I would bring up the topic so that it is something that people are aware of.
I was discussing this type of comment with a friend who had had a mastectomy on one side and when they replaced the expander with an implant they also placed an implant on the other side. They do this to try and even things out, because breast reconstruction can include modifying the other breast to make them match as good as they can. I described my predicament with people commenting on my “boob job.” She commented that breast reconstruction is really a “salvage job.” Which is exactly what it is, making the best out of a bad situation.
Mind you, at the moment my breasts are in fact larger than they were (but not by much when it comes to cup size). A difference is that the real ones don’t stick straight out straight from your body and they aren’t as hard as a rock. I do have to buy different clothes to hide the scars, but the surgery has also made certain other clothes look more appealing due to my new shape. Underneath that clothing is 3 major scars (soon to be 4) at least 4-5 inches each and about 15 or so small scars where the drain tubes came out (yes, those big things leave a scar). As time passes the scars smooth out and lighten in color. They are reopening the ones on my chest in my surgery on the 27th (the left scar will be cut out and replaced with a patch of skin from my back as they pull the latissimus dorsi around). I don’t post any picture of my scars in front because they look enough like breasts that Mike is uncomfortable with it (covering up the nipples doesn’t make him any more comfortable with it). I had a picture of the really funky stickers and lines from getting lined up for radiation, and it got a “no go.” Which is ok. I have posted my back so far here.
I had always planned on having breast augmentation done when gravity started to get involved, so trust me, I take no issue with boob jobs, my surgery just isn’t that…
Am I bitter that I lost my breasts? No. I mourned their loss, I miss them sometimes, and I get sad about it. I am delighted that that I have the opportunity for reconstruction and that I didn’t wake up from my bilateral mastectomy completely flat (although I did flip out a teensy bit when I found out that I had to have a lat flap and that was just about my only breast reconstruction option). When I had to have my breast expander removed on my right side I did go to a dark place. At that point in time I was so worn out and tired of fighting, that the combination of everything really did pull me down for awhile. I chose to take some time away from work because I had two more chemo treatments left (that made me miss work because of the leg pain) and I had a reconstruction surgery coming up that I needed to try to heal from if I was going to get that expander back in. This gave me some time to face my demons and get back to a good place where I was healed and well enough to return to work before radiation. Life is too short to be angry.
To some this surgery may seem optional, to others it may appear to be less optional. Whatever your opinion, it is a nasty icky surgery, I have done it once before, but it was worth it. My sanity prefers a little cleavage in my life.
Regarding free: These puppies cost about $200,000+ (my hospital is $20k a night just for the hospital stay alone, I have good insurance, so that isn’t really what it costs me, but it puts things in perspective).
Size: I know the girls that have actually had boob jobs want to know the cc’s. They will be 500 cc’s which is huge if you actually have something in there with it (which there isn’t), apparently my lastissimus is little because it doesn’t add much bulk… I was at 510 and 470 on my expanders (which I had no idea about until today, I hardly had any expansions). They will put in silicone, and I love my doctor, he is the best.
Mike has always wanted to decorate the house for Christmas every year. I am terrible about decorating for the holidays. My mom had 6 or 7 Christmas trees in her house for years and every nook and cranny was stuffed with Christmas decorations (which also meant every bit of storage was filled with Christmas decorations). I always felt like she did enough decorating for the two of us right? Plus I am lazy about putting it all up and taking it all down makes me tired. I think there are still Christmas lights in the window from 4 years ago…
My mom moved into a smaller place this year so I talked her out of a Christmas tree with the plans to put it up. Once December rolled around I really didn’t want to put it up (I am not going to be able to take it down, but I guess Mike gets that chore). Mike insisted and pulled it out and I bought some decorations and BAM, we have a Christmas tree. After I got the tree up I decided to step it up a notch and buy real Christmas stockings. Yes, it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas at my house.
People are starting to do the math. I have surgery on the 27th and my birthday is the 31st. If you recall last year I didn’t have the best birthday (it was the best because I got to see a lot of my friends, but it was hard because we weren’t telling people I had cancer yet). I can’t believe I am turning 32 (yeah, heckle me all you want). This past year seems
Mike and Mandi
to have flown by and now I am putting in squishy boobs (that is what I have been calling normal implants lately – turning 32 isn’t necessarily causing me to grow up completely…). Our regular New Years Eve party will now be a “hang the disco ball in the bedroom and sleep” party. Just pin a bow on me and call me “party animal.”
I am emotionally and physically ready for surgery now. My breast expanders are starting to get really uncomfortable. I usually can’t wear a bra when I get home from work, I ache at the end of the day. I have known breast expanders can be uncomfortable and I am glad that it is becoming a more recent issue vs. being a major discomfort all year. I am still glad that I have them and I am excited to be done!
Sometimes you have to leave home to appreciate it more. Thanksgiving takes on a whole new meaning for me this year. The holiday used to be about turkey and family and food… I have learned to take a moment to be extra thankful for the amazing family, friends, strangers and my fantastic husband that have all come together to take care of me and put up with me through all of life’s challenges this year.
I have made connections with my extended family that I hadn’t seen in years. I have spent more time with my immediate family, probably more time since we all lived together. We have laughed, we have cried, we have been scared together and we have loved. I don’t know what I would do without my mom, dad, and brothers. I lucked out in the marriage department and married someone who has been my shoulder to cry on (and when you face breast cancer, there is a new cry that you find out about, a deep sad cry that impacts every fiber of your being. You have to cry this cry, holding it in all of the time makes it hurt more). Mike would tell me I was beautiful even when I was bald, one-boobed, pale from chemo and cranky because I couldn’t get a freaking glass out of the cupboard.
Mike and I spent Thanksgiving in Mexico. It was a week that we had some days off work already, so it was easier for us to take a whole week off (for something other than hospital visits). We stayed just 15 minutes south of Cancun and just north of Playa Del Carmen on the Yucatan peninsula. I booked our trip when I was in the middle of radiation (I did end up adding the room upgrade once we got to the resort…). I was exhausted when I booked it. I still hadn’t quite bounced back from chemo and all of the surgeries. Life involved so many appointments that being more than 20 minutes away from the hospital seemed like an impossible dream, but I needed something sunny to look forward to to keep me (somewhat) sane (although I make no promises of sanity before or after breast cancer).
We had an amazing week of not accomplishing much more than sitting in the pool. We did head out to Chichen Itza for a day. We stayed at a resort where we had to get dressed up every evening for dinner (so I got to buy some cute sundresses to bring down). This was also the first time I felt really comfortable in my “new skin.”
Relaxing at the resort
Romantic Dinner for Two
Long walks on the beach at sunset
View from our room
Now we are just counting down until my surgery on December 27. I am not looking forward to it, but I am ready to have it behind me, start Tamoxifen again and have a few less things in front of me, and mostly everything behind me.
Friday I had a couple people at work (in different departments, the ones in mine are used to me being around and annoying, haha) tell me how genuinely happy they were to see me back. I guess I forget that everyone worries about people under these kinds of circumstances and it is touching to know that so many people care (and like me enough to want to see me wandering the halls of work). It did take a little longer for people to know that I was fully back (with hair). What they said brought tears to my eyes. I don’t know why it impacted me so much, but I have always felt important in my organization, but I really had the moment of realization that my life is a bit more back to normal after fussing over my life being different).
I have a really stressful job. Part of me makes it stressful (I function best under pressure), but part of it is the reality of what I do and who I do it for. I try to keep the specifics of work and my cancer treatment a bit more separate on this blog. I don’t want this experience to halt my opportunities in the future and the opinion of me, but I also know that if someone looks down upon me for having had this journey, they can screw off.
I work for an unusual and amazing company and I have been able to play a big part in the growth of this non-profit organization for the last 5+ years of my life. It has been an exciting and emotional journey. What adds to this is that I have a great team of individuals under me. Seriously, they are the best team ever so much fun, sharp learners who are also passionate about what they do. I have watched the company grow from under 300 employees to over 1,500 employees. 30% growth year over year (which is kind of cool if you work in the advertising/marketing department). All of that, with minimal price increases over the price over the last 5 years.
Close up after my first haircut and dye.
On top of work I have been involved with a few local organizations related to my industry and Utah in general. Today I put my hand out to volunteer to take on additional responsibilities I used to have in one of the organizations. Two months ago I would not have been able to comprehend taking on more responsibilities on top of work. Work took all energy, if I had a teensy bit left I would accomplish a thing or two around the house and that was about it. Taking life back on has been an emotional journey every way you look at it. The ups of when “I can do it” the downs of when “I need to go home and vegetate” have haunted me from the day my treatment began.
Working with cancer is a topic that I don’t really seem to see out there as much. Let alone 31 years old with an established career and cancer. There were moments questioning why I spent so much time in school (I have a master’s degree) only to face death shortly after (not that I am dying, but the reality of death is something that comes with cancer treatment and after treatment when you face the fear of it coming back). I really feel like I have been in school since I was four. Which is almost true (I had this crazy idea that I HAD to finish my master’s before I turned thirty, and then after that I have tossed around the concept of a PhD – I think I am a glutton for punishment). The good part in this is that my education is paid for (mostly by me) so I don’t owe two pennies for getting to where I am (just a lot of time, studying and sleepless nights).
As each day passes I am finding more energy and more clarity.
The lack of drama in my health life at the moment is perfectly fine. The doctors had me delay starting Tamoxifen back up until after my reconstruction surgery. Starting, stopping, starting, stopping… it seemed counterproductive (Tamoxifen has a pretty decent increase in the rate of blood clots, so you have to stop a decent chunk of time before a planned surgery). Which means I am LIVING LARGE on estrogen. It is like a drug when you haven’t had it in awhile… Which is also a bit scary, estrogen is cancer candy.
I am still getting minor dizzy spells (nothing like before). I don’t know if they are stress or fall weather or what. The paranoid part of me drifts into “tumor in my brain” the logical side of me goes “body recovering from lots of trauma.” The battle continues on the inside, but the outside wants to just live without medical drama and not pursue it. I am sure it is innocent, but I will probably call my nurses because I have a new paranoid part of me that ignores medical issues a bit less then I did, say, two years ago…
I must admit, it is purely impossible to buy too many clothes for a vacation. My obsession started with swimming suits and then sundresses… Which should be pure insanity since it has been snowing here off and on. It has been a late fall (but summer didn’t really start until July). I need to stop buying new clothes (that I can’t wear to work)… but part of me is satisfied that now I know how to shop for “the new me.” I know how to hide my scars, but feel proud of how I look (I still can’t quite get used to the hair). Although the “new me” isn’t done until February-ish.
I don’t regret my bilateral mastectomy. I know young women question whether or not it is the choice for them. My surgery was able to preserve the skin and nipples, even though they aren’t what they were (luckily I don’t have a photographic reminder of quite what the breasts used to be). Surgery choice is an extremely personal decision that you make when you don’t have a clear mind. I prefer not worrying about the tissue in there creating tumor cells, instead I just worry about what could be “leftovers,” but everyone hates leftovers, so I don’t have any… I had so many stupid complications with my surgery (which these days I blame on not letting my body rest and heal properly). I wanted to do too much too soon.
Tomorrow I get my first real haircut. I haven’t a clue to do with this mess of brunette curls. I couldn’t decide who to have do the first haircut, but I decided that I wanted to have the hairstylist who chopped it all off cut it. It seems like a full circle that I am ready for.
I don’t even have the heart to call my medical researcher yet to tell her the news: I quit. I am not really a quitter, so the concept pains me, but Mandi 2.0 (that is post cancer treatment Mandi) has learned that sometimes you have to make choices based on your quality of life. Of course, quality of life isn’t something you really learn about until you have medical issues in which your doctor discusses their concern about the “quality” of your life.
A week off of Tamoxifen and the dizzy spells were getting worse and worse. When something challenges my driving ability and how I feel at work I consider it to be a quality of life issue. They had told me that people drop out of the study because side effects, but I didn’t quite know or realize what they meant. I felt better driving the day of chemo vs. these unexpected episodes. I am pretty dissapointed because I wanted to participate in this research, but feeling so out of it was making me depressed and my overall emotional well being is important to me and my recovery. I seem to be bouncing between too much blood sugar and not enough blood sugar with no rhyme or reason when it comes to the ups and downs and when I had my last meal. I am not at a point in time in which I want to figure out my blood sugar (and I think they would have to allow me to test it, which proves whether or not I am on the placebo, which kills the whole double blind study issue). I guess I should ask, but the past couple of days of being off all of the medications have allowed me to feel about a billion times better.
Our costume choices tend to be driven by cheapness and convenience, but look at that cute husband of mine.
I am started to notice more and more energy! I am getting more done in a day than I did a week ago, and that week vs. two weeks ago. I think my amount of energy can directly be measured by how much I cook. Lately I am cooking several meals a week rather than coming home, flopping on the couch wishing dinner would magically appear (we have been watching Star Trek Next Generation a lot lately on Netflix, and so I see that food replicator fulfill orders…).
I am haunted by the question of “what is next.” Not that I have a huge desire to change things in my life, but I am understanding why people create a period of upheaval after cancer treatment. Work is back to being stressful because it is work. I have a great marriage to a wonderful man that I love more than anything in the world and I just want to spend as much time as I can with him.
I still shudder at being called a survivor, when someone says I have survived I am just not sure how to respond, my brain says “from what?” I posted in April that I wasn’t a survivor. I am still not. I am Mandi, I had breast cancer, but I am still just Mandi (although I have been told cancer has changed my personality, not that I am surprised at that, I just don’t quite know how and if it is good or bad). Cancer treatment sucks, but I am not sure I will ever be convinced that I truly survived. I feel a need to give back in some way, but I haven’t figured out how or where or what. Quite frankly I just need to get through this next surgery, focus on work and then figure it all out (I will figure it all out right?).
On a side note my surgeon, along with the local support group for younger women with breast cancer were featured in a local TV special.
So I have been trying to avoid the topic of side effects because I kept hoping they would just go away, turns out I am more likely suffering from issues with the Metformin (or some really crazy placebo effect, but realistically, I don’t think I got the placebo). I am getting crazy dizzy spells that make me feel disoriented and out of it. I also generally haven’t felt well, tired, cranky, nausea – just overall ick. Which has been driving me crazy because I am supposed to be feeling better rather than feeling worse! After fighting my cold for a week my body decided Thursday afternoon that it had had it. The room was spinning at work so I went home to lay down. I felt better after a nap, but when I woke up the next morning I was dizzy and exhausted and just didn’t feel right.
I gave in and called the nurse (I feel like a complainer because the only time I call is when I am having problems, but I guess it would be strange to just call to say hello and that everything is dandy). I had also had a sharp pain in my upper arm on the inside where my lymph nodes are which didn’t have me super excited. I wore my lymphedema sleeve this week in case it was lymphedema (and the pressure from the sleeve helped the pain). It turned out that the pain is an axillary web (one of my blog friends had this happen after her mastectomy, so I had seen it, but I guess radiation can also get it going). Stretching and massaging the area that hurts is supposed to get it to eventually work itself out.
They are having me stop Tamoxifen for two weeks (which scared the crap out of me), but they said that Tamoxifen is something that you have to take for the long haul and because I am in the study I can mess up the study if I stop taking the Metformin/placebo. So we are trying to isolate what is making me feel crappy (on top of being sick). The Metformin or the Tamoxifen. Apparently all of the side effects I described are not normal for Tamoxifen, and when I described them to my friend who has type 1 diabetes – they all sound like side effects that come with unregulated blood sugar (interesting because I thought Metformin regulates it, but maybe if you don’t need it, it makes it wacky).
We had bought tickets to the Real Salt Lake soccer game Saturday and I decided to go. The weather was awesome, a very nice and warm fall day. My friends gave me the breast cancer awareness scarf from last year’s game, so I had my very own scarf for my first soccer game. We had a bunch of friends going and my brothers also bought tickets to come. The game was part of the breast cancer awareness series of games, so I figured I would wear the breast cancer awareness shirt to go along with the scarf (I had a woman stop me and ask where she could get one for her friend).
My hair these days is a bunch of tiny little curls that I smooth out with some gel, but it is a bit unruly. I can’t quite decide what to do with it yet, for now I am just letting it grow and do its thing.
Me, my brother Dereck, my brother Justin and my sister-in-law Tara.