That little voice inside my head is talking again.  The one that keeps saying I'm going to be one of the ones to relapse with breast cancer.  Or the type of breast cancer that moves to my liver or brain.

I have the worst luck in life.  I got cancer as a child - a rarer form of leukemia that usually hits adults.  Then I relapsed with it and had a low chance of survival.  Then, when I thought my life was in the clear and forever ridden of the word 'cancer' - I got breast cancer.  I'm not even 30 yet.

Everyone tells me to think positive.  Everyone tells me to look at the bright side.  Some of my doctors brush me off like they don't even want to think about it.  One doctor reassured me that we did a good job this time and if anything happens in the future, we'll just tackle it again in a different way.  This made me feel better because it's not the treatments I fear - it's the possibility I will run out of treatment options some day.  I'm not scared of getting cancer again and having to do chemo, or radiation or another surgery.  I know I can handle something like that again.

What scares me the most is getting cancer again and the doctor tells me that's it.  Whether it's a far stage or metastatic to a vital area - they'll just tell me there's nothing they can do.  No more treatments.  No more therapies.  No more surgeries.  They just let me die.

Of course I'm scared of dying.  What normal person isn't.  And I can't live with the thought in my head that this could be my last day on Earth.  Like if I go to sleep tonight will I wake up in the morning?  And as stupid as it sounds, it makes me depressed to think how my family would see me while I'm dying.  Mom or Jeremy would try to be strong and stay with me, but inside I know they'd be crushed and it's killing them too (in a different way).  Hell Jeremy may even break down with me - and I can't handle seeing him like that.

Ugh I know this is all just fear and speculation!  But I just want someone to say that my fears are validated, even if they are more likely unfounded.  Stop telling me to think positive or look on the bright side of things.  I did that for 17 years after leukemia and I was so sure my life was on the right track to normalcy.  I was so sure cancer was a word in my past.  But it's like God laughed at me and said 'Not today b*tch' and decided to strike me down again. 
Why do I have to do so many tests?!
Make someone else do it!

I'm gonna go eat some pizza and cry for a while.

I had such a good Dallas trip this week!

Well, the day started off kind of scary.  As Jeremy and I left Tyler at 5:30am, we drove straight through a line of sever storms that were leaving Dallas and heading to Tyler.  So although I tried to nap in the car, I kept freaking out over the high wind gusts, bright lightning and blankets of rain that was coming down.  At one point, I'm sure Jeremy was only going 45 mph on a busy highway.

But we did finally make it to Dallas in one piece!  My first stop of the day was a gastric emptying study that Dr. R. ordered.  This was the most boring test ever.  And I've had a lot of them.  First off, you have to eat a plate of radioactive eggs.  You read that right.  Eggs that have been coated in a radioactive dye they can trace through my stomach.  I've endured so much radiation over the years, I'm surprised I don't glow in the dark or morph into a super hero or crazy villain that tries to take over the world.  So the first part of the test requires to you lay on a table for 60 minutes straight while they take x-rays of my stomach.  Then, you get up and move around for an hour.  Then you come back and lay still for 1 minute to take another picture.  This process goes on for four hours.  Oh and you can't eat or drink anything until after the entire test is done.  I don't get finished until 1:45pm - and by this time I'm starving and pissy.

So my next stop is to get my Herceptin therapy.  Although they were running behind in the infusion center, I was still able to sit back in a recliner, drink some juice and a Glucerna, and finally relax after my hectic morning.  I enjoyed watching SVU on the small TV and was finally getting back into my good mood.

My final stop of the day was to see Dr. A. - Yay!  After some bumpy morning appointments I've had in the past, I was glad to see him in the afternoon because - as I predicted - he was in a much better mood and I didn't feel like he was in a rush at all.  In fact, he might have even been happy to see me  lol.  He inspected all my wounds, which he of course said are looking great and should be completely fine in a few weeks.  Then no more bandages!  Whoo hoo.  He did pump my expander up (sweet!) although it wasn't very much.  It didn't give me much volume, but it did help plump out some of the creases  I still had and helped even out some of the puckered skin on my sides, so I'm feeling pretty good about it.  I was even more excited when he told me he can fill them a couple more times and get them up to almost double their size, which is a little bigger than what I had before. Sweet!  I'll take one of my old bras  with me on my visit so we can form a plan to get them back to that size.  Once he fills them up to my liking, he said they'll have to stay in until next Spring, which gives me plenty of time to save up some paid time off at work and get myself prepared.  The implant surgery is not near as extensive as the mastectomy, but I still have to psych myself up to let someone cut open my boobs again.  AND he said when they put in the implants they will take out the mediport, which will signal the end of my treatments and officially wrap up this 'saga' in my life.  I'll probably shoot for surgery at the end of April, but I guess I can still say I'm getting new boobs for my anniversary?  lol!

It's official.  I'm sick.

I should have known the cold weather and being in a confined space of people at work would cause me to come down with something.  I started off just feeling soooooo tired and eventually got a stuffy nose and sore throat.  Then came the cough.  Then came fever. And of course all the lovely mucus set in.  I've had to call in to work for two days because I just couldn't get the energy to get out of bed and go.  Plus since I had fever, I'm not really allowed to go in and spread it to everyone else.

I had to joke that I can battle cancer just fine, but a cold is gonna bring me down?  Ugh.

I hate feeling sick.  Not to sound macho or full of myself - I just hate admitting I'm sick enough to be brought down by something and not be able to keep up my tough exterior.  I hate admitting I'm weak enough to let something like mucus get in my way.  Plus I always tell everyone else to suck it up, so why can't I?

It's really just one of those things that happen every year.  Except this year I have less immunity and already have enough healing problems to deal with.  And although I finally got my hormone patches back, I'm still on an emotional roller coaster.  So combine being sick with raging emotions - that just makes everybody miserable.

I bought some V8 - the fruity kind.  Hopefully the vitamin C will help me feel better soon.

Today has been depressing.

Well, I should back up and let you know that I have been without my hormone patch for almost two weeks now, so sometimes I don't even know what I'm feeling - but it all just comes out.

The day started when I work up late and almost didn't make it out the door in time for my appt in Dallas with Dr. A.  Luckily Jeremy was driving so we made it in time.  But when I arrived, I noticed he was running behind, which doesn't bother me since I was so excited about having my wounds checked and getting my expanders pumped.  As it got closer to lunch time, Dr. A. came in and checked both my wounds.  He said the one on the right is completely healed from necrosis, so now I just have to baby the skin with Neosporin until it closes back up.  He was also very happy with how the right one is progressing and I even heard him say Wow.  ha ha
But he wasn't in the room with me for very long and he said - again - this week that he didn't want to pump the expanders and told me to come back in 2 weeks.  He says he'll do it then.  I know he wants the skin to heal and I know he will not jump into anything until he knows my scars/wounds are ready, but OMG I had all this excitement about pumping today and it was like letting all the air out of my balloon.  Is that a pun here?  Anyways.  I've noticed the last two visits I've made in the morning he seems to be rushed and in a hurry in the office, so next time I made my appt in the afternoon.  He's not getting away so easily next time...

Yes I know it doesn't seem like a big deal.  So what he was in a hurry with other patients.  So what he didn't pump you up this time.  So what if he didn't comment on my glorious new hair growing in - just kidding.  As I've said in one of my other posts, whenever we do something new, like changing a bandage regimen or pumping the expanders, it feels like progress.  It feel like healing.  It feels like moving forward.  But for the past few weeks I haven't got to do any of this.  I'm stuck in the same old bandage check - which consists of 5 minutes - and I'm not going anywhere.  Then it makes me question what am I doing wrong that I'm not in a place for 'advancement'.  What am I doing wrong that I'm not healing fast enough to be able to do anything else?  Ugh

I really wanted to find some Blue Bell ice cream in Dallas today, but I only remembered it when we were halfway home.  Jeremy took me to look at the Christmas stuff at Wal-Mart and I picked up some craft stuff for my wreaths.  It helped a little, but I still felt like I could just go home and crawl into bed until further notice.  I don't want to adult any time soon.