Befriending a Body

Dear Friends,

Today, my nurse Christina came by to take off the final bandages. She called to say she would be by in about 20 minutes, so I took some Tylenol (just in case) and jumped in the shower to allow the hot water to hit the steri-strips. There were probably about 25 strips to be removed, and they didn’t hurt when she took them off. Then she cleaned me up and complimented me on my scars – apparently, they are quite impressive.

I stood in the living room after Christina left, looking at the gentle snow falling outside, and decided to go into the bathroom and take some time to get to really look at my scars, I don’t know, say hello to them. It’s not that I am sorry to have lost Tito and Blanket, it’s just trying to make sense of this new shape, one I never imagined for myself (I have imagined several shapes and configurations for my chest, but never this one). It’s also the process of looking at your body after it has been so banged up with the area around the incisions hard and numb. It has clearly needed to protect itself after the insult of surgery. Who can blame it?

I think we are going to be friends.

Then, this afternoon I was reading a blog Catherine told me about last week. It was written by UBC professor Mary Bryson who was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a bilateral mastectomy a few years ago. It’s a very good blog where she asks a different set of questions about the politics of breast cancer, treatment, etc. (anyone interested can read it at http://brys.wordpress.com/). It’s so interesting that I encountered this blog today: in one entry, Bryson cites Anne-Marie de Grazia, who also had the bilateral procedure and writes of her experience:

“I now look at myself every morning, every evening, naked, in the mirror, equanimously, as I always did, and what I see is not a maimed body. Some might call this denial. Yet - I look at this flat expanse of my chest and I do not find it ugly, or repellent. My face, somehow, "goes" with this chest, there is a harmonious continuity from my face all the way down my body. There is, in all human beings, when they are bare-chested, a touching symmetry between the eyes and the nipples, and this symmetry, of course, in my case, is gone. Yet, and this may sound scandalous, absurd, or even mad: this breast-less body is not devoid, in my eyes, of a certain pure and abstracted beauty. If it is indeed monstrous, it is so in the manner of some magical, not quite human creature - a fairy, a mermaid - an Amazon.”

It was meaningful to read another person's experience in the post-surgical mirror, today, just after I first encountered my new chest for the first time fully exposed. While the fairy, mermaid and Amazon don’t resonate with me, I might let my imagination play with the “magical, not quite human creature” part. Now that could be healing and even quite intriguing...

Here are my wishes for Catherine to feel better soon, and for everyone else to get home safely on this snowy winter day.

With much love,

Kip

Possible Hair Styles

Hi Friends,
Contributors have begun to suggest possible hair styles for me. Thanks to Patty for sending this first option. I promise to take it seriously if I come back as a blond.
This morning I woke up for the first time since the beginning of August light and optimistic. Then I moved my arms and sat up felt the pain as a result of the surgery. It is now the hardest pain thus far for sure, but I'm just assuming it's all part of the recovery. I have a whole new appreciation for what lymph nodes do.
A reminder to love your lymph nodes.
Yesterday, Catherine had a scratchy throat and was tired, and today it has turned into a real cold (or flu). Her energy is zapped (this makes me think it's a flu) and she's feeling pretty crappy.
In good news, I have new eyelashes. Yes, eyelashes! Last night, while getting ready for bed I looked in the mirror and--gasp--I had four lines of veeeery short little lashes coming out (they look extremely tenuous, probably wanting to make sure there's no more chemo coming their way). It was great that they began budding on exactly the same day I found out that, without any doubt, I would not be getting any more chemo (always a possibility until you know the results of the pathology report). I got an eyelash curler a few weeks ago so I can train them to come in properly. It will probably take a few weeks before I need it, but I have it at the ready.
Much love,
Kip

A Great Pathology Report

Dear Friends,

This morning I went down to the hospital for a meeting with the radiation oncologist. We figured we would be setting up a radiation schedule and talking about the therapy. Instead, the oncologist's fellow, a lovely young Irish woman, came in and told us she had the pathology report from the surgery and that it was good news. Would we like to hear it? (Um, yes.) From all of the samples examined, which included both breasts, 29 lymph nodes from under the left arm (ouch) and several from under the right arm, there was no remaining cancer. None. They could see residue from where the chemo clearly had killed the cancer cells (scar tissue and other indicators to suggest that there had clearly been a battle), but no cancer. They will still do radiation as there might be stray cells that were not removed. But I can't tell you how much more optimistic this report makes me for radiation, and for my long-term prognosis.
So it has been an emotional day, full of gratitude and happiness, and tears. There's still a road ahead--I'm recovering from surgery with nerve pain and quite a bit of discomfort, and 5 weeks of radiation after that--but it's the best news I could have received.
The chemo worked beautifully after all.
Tonight, Giselle came with ice cream (remember that blog entry a few days ago about wanting to eat as much as I want?) so she, Julie and I had dinner with a few glasses of wine, and Rocky Road Haagen Dazs (with the hope that the rocky road is behind us).
I will sleep incredibly well tonight.
With much love,
Kip

Kip's Hair, Before and After Chemo

Hi Friends,
Be careful what you wish for! I asked for Elvis hair when it started growing back in, and viola...well, almost. I now have short hair around my head, but hey, it could still do this, or it could come back and look as it did in the original photo in 2008. Thanks to Julie and her Photoshop skills for creating the Kip/Elvis montage.
This, of course, could become another question for all of you. Do you have another idea for what my hair could look like? Do you have any experience with Photoshop? If so, feel free to take the first photo, replace my hair with your idea for a new look, email it to me and I'll post it to the blog. Or, if you have another photo of me, you could use that instead.
With much love,
Kip

A big day...

Hello Friends,

Today, we went to the mall (Sherway Gardens, which we now call Sherway Forest), down at the Queensway and highway 427. It's a large mall, so I wanted to go there to get in some walking. It turned into a shopping trip as well, not entirely surprisingly. I tried on a few things I could either (slowly) zipper or button up, but no luck. It was a day of getting accustomed to my new shape without Tito and Blanket. I don't miss them, but now it's figuring out what I can wear that looks good (I think the solution is a good personal trainer for better shoulders). I saw a few pullover sweaters that looked great on the tables, but it's too soon to pull anything over my head, so perhaps I'll go back when I'm all healed up.
Then the other big event of the day was my first shower. This might sound like a small event, but it meant wrapping my chest in Saran Wrap multiple times and taping me up with waterproof tape to make sure no water reached the incisions. Quite the look. If I had had a hot flash in that moment you could have stuck me on the top of a Christmas tree as a shiny, colorful ornament no one would ever forget. But it felt wonderful to be under the water, and my left arm feels fine (they scared the crap out of us at the lymphedema clinic warning us that hot showers and baths could make arms that have had the lymph dissection swell up). So far, all is good.
Tonight, I rest.
Much love,
Kip

Ch-ch-ch-Chia!

Dear Friends,
Well, it's official: I now have new hair growth on my head. It's very strange, very soft, not like hair at all, really, it's wispy, light and fuzzy. But there's definitely a 5 o'clock shadow. I feel like one of those chia pets advertised on television - just add water and watch it grow. Not surprisingly, Catherine had a dream last night that she was taking care of a lamb. I've shifted in her unconscious from her wounded duckling to her soft little lamb.
On another note, if there's anything amusing about my hot flashes (and this might be the only amusing thing) it's that my face gets red up to my hairline but no further. Now that my hairline is a little more pronounced, onlookers can see a flushed face up to the pale peach fuzz head. I didn't know that the flush stopped at hair. I might drink a bottle of red wine on the weekend, have a few flashes and charge admission to see this. It's quite the sight.
Today, the last Beatle was taken out. Thank you for all of your name suggestions that came on the blog and by email (poor George, as usual, didn't get one nomination, but there are some strong opinions about Ringo!). Thinking about your suggestions entertained me as the nurse pulled the drain out (again, like the first person to inject the chemo yew drug, who would have ever thought to sew a drain into a body and then yank it out a few days later?) Incredible. It's great to have more freedom and less tugging on my skin, and now I can graduate to the next level of stretches and exercises. I'm hoping tonight I might be able to sleep on my side for part of the night.
Much love,
Kip

Like A Rolling Stone(d)...

Hi Friends,
Another day, another afternoon stoned. I spent much of the day in bed - lying down with my arms elevated gives me the most comfort. The nerve pain is managed but it's all across my chest and under my arms. I have to remember, as Judy reminded Catherine today, that this is the process nerves must take to recover and heal. It's just time.
So far, Paul (or John) is under the legal limit for the day, so he might be going tomorrow morning. That would give me more physical freedom and help me feel physically and mentally stronger. I will enjoy that, whenever that happens.
Tired tonight, more tomorrow.
Much love,
Kip