April 27, 2014    You Knew It Was Coming

 

 

Hello Everyone,

 

 

Welcome back and thank you, everyday, for reading and returning to this blog. 

I am so fortunate for each comment, email, and view; the blog has been viewed over 3,000 times! You have no idea how much that means to me. I realize some of you return often, and I understand.  I miss you, too.

 

Remember, it is ok to email me or text or ask questions or just check in. 

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Every day, my friends send me inspirational messages through Facebook or via text or email.  I have reposted some of them in my blog entries. My friend, Cat, sent me the picture above.  I definitely needed this one today...

 

Some of the questions I fielded from my friends and family have been about the side effects of chemotherapy. When people think of cancer patients and chemotherapy, they ask about nausea, fatigue, and hair loss.  This experience has provided me with first hand knowledge that I am trying to share with others. 

 

One of the most significant side effects of undergoing chemotherapy is alopecia, or total hair loss. This includes all body hair, including eyelashes and eyebrows.  I have talked about this before, and I knew it was coming.  I did my best to take action and prepare, by cutting off my longer hair.  I also mentally prepared by gathering more knowledge and talking to cancer survivors who dealt with alopecia.  I have scarves and hats and caps to wear as it continues to get worse.

 

With my chemotherapy drugs, I was aware the hair loss would begin about two weeks after my first treatment.  And it did.

 

The last few days, I have been experiencing hair loss when I comb or brush or shampoo my hair.  Its much, much more than the usual 10-20 strands that most people experience every day.  While its something I have done my best to prepare for, it is still sad to see.  When I start to feel bad about it, I reach out to friends, who remind me of what I need to hear:

 

It will grow back....  You look good with hats....  You can get cool wigs, like candy apple red.... You knew it was coming, and you prepared for it.

 

Some of my friends have expressed sympathy or asked questions about prevention.  Most patients lose all their hair; some have thinning, which looks like it sounds.  The American Cancer Society offers a program called "Look Good, Feel Better," which provides assistance, such as wigs and beauty tips, to help with the adjustment.   

 

Now is the time to count my smiles and count my courage.  It is not the time to cry or be scared.  There will be times for that, just not now.  This is another battle in a very long, long war.  This is another way my life will change because of this disease.

 

What does not change are my support system and my positive attitude.  I look forward to messages or visits or lunches with friends.  I have friends who are wearing my name as they participate in walks or runs in support of cancer research.  I have friends who will be there for me as I head into Round 2 of chemotherapy this week.  I am humbled, and stronger, with my TeamSosa.

 

Love You,

Sosa

 

 

 

 

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Some people have had trouble posting on the blog.  I will post for you if you send me your message.  I learned it is easier to post from the computer than your phone.  You can post anonymously (include your name in the post) and from your Google account. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

April 20, 2014        Easter Sunday

 

 

Hello Everyone,

 

So this week, I learned a few things....

 

I learned it takes a lot of energy for my body to deal with side effects, day after day. 

 

I learned my body needed a lot more calories to do a simple yoga class.

 

I learned that even a few hours out of the house can be exhausting.

 

I learned to listen to my body, even when my heart wanted to stay for the second game.

 

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This week I attended my first support group comprised of cancer patients and survivors.  It will be another good resource for me to learn from and communicate with others who have gone through treatment and intend to survive this disease.  I have also been fortunate to meet other women in my field of work whose lives haves been changed by breast cancer.  And, I have been lucky to have friends from all over, connect me with survivors in their lives.  I am grateful for the support, and overwhelmed sometimes by the seemingly infinite ways breast cancer has touched the lives of so many.

 

For more than a few, I am the first person someone has known, on a personal level, whose life is forever changed because of breast cancer.  I am the first person some have known to go through chemotherapy, let alone all the other steps to come.  For some, they do not know what to say or do, and some just want to "fix it all," and make it go away.

 

What I have learned from these friends, is that all emotions are valid, from anger, to doubt, to fear. And, understanding there is no quick fix for any cancer, can be a hard pill to swallow.  My friends, please trust, completely, that your short text, email, blog post, or "like" on Facebook, is a reminder to me that you are out there. While you may not think you know what to do or how to help, even the simplest acknowledgement to me or to someone who is asking about me, helps me in many important ways.

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Yoga was fun, and I intend to participate in classes as often as possible.  But, one must remember to eat something before doing more activity than usual.  This was my first real activity since chemotherapy started and my body was not ready.  My blood sugar was low and I was exhausted! So, I learned a lesson that day.

 

I went to Saint Mary's College (Class of '98) last week to watch Fresno State Softball play the Gaels.  While I hoped to see both games of the doubleheader, I settled for extra innings in the first game.  My body told me I was tired, and within a few hours in the sunshine, I knew I had to head home.  Leaving the sun, and a softball game, are the opposites of everything I have been raised to be. However, I was lucky to see my parents, as well as my friends, whose daughters play for the Dogs.  And, made it to the bookstore for some swag. 

 

I also learned (not really, but we have a theme) that extra innings in a Giants game this early in the season is exhausting for anyone, cancer or not.....

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This has been a fun week for letters and packages and fun pictures from friends and family. Thanks for the positive quotes, as well as the smurfs, the biohazard bags, and the inappropriate wardrobe choices.... I commend those still using US Mail, as I appreciate sending a letter of my own from time to time.

Thank you for your messages and for your visits, and for your consideration of my needs.

 

It's been an interesting week and I just thought I would share some with you all.  This is the second week after my first treatment.  The major side effects of pain have subsided and I am fortunate to feel relatively normal.  Round Two is in a little over a week and I plan to use this time to strengthen my body and mind for whatever is to come.  With exercise and a positive attitude, I am almost completely prepared for what lies ahead.  I say almost, because I am only strongest with your support, your affirmations, your prayers, and your faith. 

 

 

Thank you all so much,

 

Sosa

From Monica R.M.: "The little difference (in people) is the attitude.  The big difference is whether it is positive or negative."

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Lastly, while I have many projects to work one during my time at home, I have binged on seasons of TV shows, and ridiculous movie marathons. If you are inspired, feel free to email me your suggestions for programs I might be missing, because they are soooo fantastic. I have stacks of books yet to be read, but am always up for a browsing of a local bookstore.

My First Chemotherapy, 4/9/14 

 

April 13, 2014

 

Hi Everyone,

 

I would like to start off by acknowledging everyone who checked in with me this week.  Your emails, texts, phone calls, and pictures were much appreciated.  I know I was not much of a talker, but I responded to every message.  I returned daily to past blog and Facebook entries and reread what you have posted, because it helps so much. Having friends and family check in from five minutes or 500 miles away reminds me on an hourly basis of my support, my team.  I am very lucky to be on TeamSosa for this journey.

 

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So this week was my first chemotherapy infusion. The experience itself went well. My parents accompanied me to my first session, and I have spent the last week experiencing side effects and adjusting to medications. Round One included headaches and aches and pains, which were the worst of it. This was different from last week's post surgery pain; this is much harder to manage.  As some of my friends have learned through their own personal injuries, pain interrupts sleep, which makes for long days, and longer nights. Trying to find a comfortable position, using icepacks on sore joints, and taking medications are my current routine.

 

I am most grateful for not experiencing nausea, or worse, vomiting.  I attribute that "gift" to more advanced medications, but also to a bit of willpower.  As an athlete, I have always "played through the pain," but I'm not crazy.  I am a firm believer in "mind over matter" and thoroughly convinced myself that nausea was not in the game plan. And I kept one foot on the floor at all times. 

 

I also have faith that I will always be given only what I can handle.  However, I am realistic, too, because the nausea could very likely come back with a vengeance for the next part of the war. This mentality is the basis of my strength and I surround myself daily with wings of balanced optimism and realism.

 

This will get harder over time, and I am fortunate for every hour of every day that it is easier, every hour of sleep, and each comfortable position I can be in.  Because I do not know what Round Two holds for me.  I am mentally preparing myself for as much as I can before the next wave hits. 

 

Feel free to email me, or post a response, or share this blog with others.  Tell me if there is something you would like me to address or something you think I should say.  I do this for myself, and for my friends and family.  It is not TeamSosa without you.

 

Love to you all,

Andrea

 

 

 

And, yes, mom and dad were here most of the week. We watched the Masters and Giants baseball and Fresno State softball.  Because that's how we roll.  Major life events coincide with sporting events....  There was not much they could do for me other than run errands, and keep me company. I refer to them as the "crazies," and my small apartment is like a cage for their active retired lifestyles. They have since returned to the Central Valley to root on their Bulldogs, of course.  My parents did not leave me "unattended," and they know I have an extensive support system in the Bay Area.

 

 

**Only real Giants fans have their first chemo on the Home Opener.  Yes, I wore all my Giants gear, and brought my 2010 World Series blanket with me.  Even my nurse Barbara wore her Will Clark button. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

April 6, 2014                                                   Not Pain, But Perspective

Hello Everyone, and Welcome Back,

In my last entry, I shared with you all the challenge and triumph of cutting my hair.  It was an act of preparation for war, and I am adjusting to my newest strength.  Thank you to everyone who complimented me on the new look, but moreso the acknowledgement that I did something to help others. 
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I would not have been given any challenge if nothing good were to come of it.

On Thursday, I had surgery to install a port in my chest.  It is not like Neo in the Matrix, as Angela guessed, but close.  It is a small device placed under the skin in my upper right chest.  At chemotherapy, the drugs will be delivered through a needle placed into the device.  This surgical procedure took a few hours, during which time, my neck and chest were stretched in opposite directions while the technician properly placed the device under my skin and into my veins. 

While I received IV sedatives during the procedure, as anyone who has had any surgery can attest, those drugs wear off.  I had some discomfort Thursday afternoon, and complete pain by Thursday night.  Friday was much worse, like the second day after a car crash.  I had limited movement and utilized ice packs and prescription painkillers for pain. The bandages were removed Saturday and the site should be ready for access at my first chemotherapy infusion.

Most medical professionals today ask their patients to describe their level of pain on a scale of one to ten.  I can say I experienced a ten or more until late Sunday evening.  It has subsided to between a five to seven, which depends on my activity or position.  The swelling and bruising has lessened, but I look and feel like I was shot in the chest.  I can feel the device itself, as well as the tubes coming out of it and running underneath my skin....

As I experienced this pain and discomfort, I did not cry or feel sorry for myself. That's not my style.  My parents helped me as needed, and I rested as much as my comfort level would allow.  Ironically, the pain I have experienced from the actual breast cancer tumor, was minimal and appeared to have subsided over the past few days.  Its as if my cancer knew this surgical procedure would be a break from my ongoing pain, and took pleasure in vaulting it higher to test my pain threshold.

This pain is nothing compared to what this war has in store for me.

This pain is not nausea, or hair loss, or neuropathy, or depression, or fatigue.

This pain is here to give me perspective.
Nearly all surgeries are performed with the goal of addressing the main health issue. This surgery provided me with a tool to make it easier for my body to receive treatment.  This is not the last surgery I will have in this war, which is yet to be determined.  This recovery experience is minimal compared to the daily recoveries I have yet to face.

I have a long way to go, and this pain is a small, but significant battle in a very  terrible war. Your prayers, support and feedback are always welcome and needed as valuable weapons in my fight.

Love, Sosa

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I will post again this week, and I appreciate all comments, suggestions, emails, and posts to the blog.  Please share with others, and don't hesitate to email me or ask questions.  You won't know the answer until you ask the question.

April 2, 2014

The Day I Cut My Hair

 

Hello Everyone,

 

 

First, let me acknowledge the absolutely incredible feedback to my first entry.  I am truly blessed to have so much support and honored to have made such good friends over the years.  Please share this blog, repost, and tell your friends about this experience. I will respond to any questions or comments, all you have to do is ask.

 

Second, a few people have had trouble posting to the blog.  I cannot explain this, nor will I try.  But, as usual, I will provide a solution... Email me your comments at heysosateamsosa@gmail.com.  I will cut and paste them into the blog, either anonymously or with your name/initials/nickname, etc..... 

 

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So, today was a big day for me. Today was the day I cut off all my hair. 

 

Now, as you can see from the pictures, I did not go full "GI Jane," and shave my head.  While I have said "I am going to war," I am honestly not ready for that image.  Making today's appointment and accepting the physical outcome were difficult steps for me. 

 

Most will remember I have always had long brown hair, and I have never had short hair.  In fact, I had short hair in fourth grade, and my sophomore year in high school.  That being said, my long hair has become a part of my personality, and evolved into a security blanket. While working in my former position, my hair was usually fashioned in a bun.  For the past three years, I have become more comfortable with wearing it down.  At times, I have trimmed six inches at a time and tried layers, as a way of being "adventurous." I have always felt special with compliments from friends and strangers alike. My hair is a part of me, and often, a part of my carpet, my clothes, and the damaging force in shower drains and vacuum cleaners wherever I have lived.

 

                                      I AM NOT MY HAIR.............India.Arie

 

Until this last month,  until my diagnosis and treatment plan, I was never faced with the decision to cut my hair in such a drastic fashion.  It became a choice of consequence. 

 

The oncologist and the nurses said, Taxotere, one of my chemotherapy drugs, will cause Alopecia, or hair loss. It will begin to occur within the first month of chemotherapy.  The singer sang "breast cancer and chemotherapy would take my crown of glory," and I faced my fear.  I knew I did not want to watch my long hair fall from my head over the next few months.  I did not want to wake up with pieces of hair left on my pillow or in my bed, or watch pieces come out as I showered or changed my clothing. 

 

I spoke with a friend/coworker, who I knew donated her hair on more than one occasion. I was aware that young women and girls everywhere donated their hair. These donations go to making wigs for children who lose their hair due to alopecia caused by treatment like chemotherapy.  I spoke with a friend/coworker whose cousin owned a hair salon, and asked if he could research how donations are done.

 

Somehow, I had to accept losing my hair as a very real part of my future.  The only way I could "justify" this loss, was to choose to donate my hair. It is not a choice to lose my hair because of cancer and chemotherapy; but I can choose to make that experience less traumatic and less emotionally painful.  I can choose to make it beneficial to others, with a positive result. Not all chemotherapy patients lose their hair, however, I needed to feel I made this decision voluntarily, and that I chose to cut my hair, as opposed to cancer, very likely, taking my hair from me. 

 

Two of the many, many things cancer can take from you include your pride and your vanity.  I say truthfully, I felt that is what I was losing today.  Rather than succumb to those feelings of sadness, rather than feel sorry for myself, as I was so tempted to do, I accepted that my donation will help others, and possibly more than one child.  I accepted I had great friends who were willing to come to the Citrus Salon in Downtown Martinez, and watch Candace cut and style my hair.  I accepted, that I AM NOT MY HAIR.  I am a person who is generous and beautiful, and I still will be, when I lose my hair and wear scarves and baseball caps.  I accepted a fate of my choosing, while I still have that power.

 

 

Special thanks to Tim, Candace, RobbynNicole, Cristina, Kim, Kyomi, and Jalen.

 

 

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Tomorrow, I take another painful step on this journey, as I prepare for chemotherapy next week.  My next posting will be Sunday, and I hope you will continue with your support.