October 3

 

On Saturday, October 3, 2009, my sister died from ovarian cancer, having survived just three years after her diagnosis. Thus ended my short trip to see her that turned into a 66-day bedside vigil. The first month was at UNC Women’s Hospital, a truly excellent facility in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The last month was at a skilled nursing facility, Kindred, in Greensboro, North Carolina. Kindred was a god-awful place but the only one covered by her insurance.  (It was her medical insurance that forced her move.)

I never could have guessed that fifteen years later I would be in my second bout with breast cancer, receiving good news on October 3, a Thursday: Today I was given the green light to start using my right arm more and even drive again.

A nurse removed the steri-strips and did an ultrasound to check on the bit of fluid retention under my scar. I was relieved to learn that I would not need a needle poke to remove the fluid. Dr. Flynn gave me the good news, sent a referral to Muse Intimates for an appointment in the next week or two to be fitted for a mastectomy bra and prosthesis, and sent me on down to the fourth floor of the Mary K. Chapman Breast Center to see the physical therapist.

There, the physical therapist measured my right arm’s range of motion and spent the next hour giving me instructions on exercises to facilitate a healthy lymphatic system to prevent lymphedema. These fourteen exercises (all brief) I will do twice a day for the rest of my life. With my mastectomy, I only had four lymph nodes removed, but still, any time lymph nodes are surgically removed, there is a chance that the lymphatic system could get backed up, resulting in painful swelling that does not go away.

In a few weeks I will see her again for further instructions. She will teach me how to measure the circumference of my arm in three places, which I will do once a week to make sure there is no start of swelling. And I will get a prescription for an arm compression sleeve to use for travel (flying or going to the mountains) and just in case I experience any start of arm, hand, or finger swelling. The trick is to catch and treat the swelling right away.

Next Tuesday, October 8, I have an appointment with Dr. Moussa, my oncologist. I believe he will explain what my chemotherapy treatment will be, when it will start, and when it will end.

It seems to me that good news during cancer treatment is usually mixed with sobering realities. But ever since my sister died at age 56, I’ve felt that every year I get to live beyond that age is a bonus year. I’ve made it to 69 already, and I’m hoping for many more years to come.