Do you ever sit back and take a minute to reflect on exactly where you are in your life? Not in the sense of a geographical location, but where you are spiritually, psychologically, emotionally. How did you end up there? What events throughout your life led to this exact moment? Where would you be if you chose the other path when you came upon the fork in the road? We have all ended up exactly where we are based on a series of choices - and those choices have likely been influenced by a number of different people and circumstances throughout our lives. I think one major point of this crazy thing called life, is to learn from those choices - to reflect on where they led you - and to decide if that is a path you should continue to travel down, or perhaps it is time to venture out and try something new. Are you truly happy in this moment? If not, what can you do about it? Are there steps you can take to actively participate in the direction your life is heading? Or are you willing to sit back and watch it all unfold without attempting to change the angle of your sails and steer yourself towards what brings you joy in this world? The only way that I have found to live with true happiness while facing this disease, is to try to turn it into something positive. To try to somehow make a difference - to educate, to support, to befriend, to create awareness, to speak out. If I simply sat back and wallowed in self-pity about this hand that's been dealt to me, I would be miserable. What good would that do for anyone? For me, Mike, my family, and my friends - it would suck everyone down into a deep, dark hole. Instead, I have tried to do what I can to turn this situation around and make something good come from it. I am grateful that New Balance and Chris Pearson, the director of the Mid-Michigan affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure gave me the opportunity to share my story last Sunday at the Race for the Cure in Lansing. I nervously stood on the steps leading up to the State Capital building and awaited my introduction. Just moments prior, I almost lost it as the opening ceremonies began and young dancers performed in front of the crowd. As I watched my mom and saw the tears stream down her face, I was reminded of how hard this is for everyone. But, I knew it was important that I take this opportunity to share my experience and try to make some kind of positive impact. As Mike and I walked up to the podium, I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me. But after bobbling the first few words of my speech, I took a breath and simply spoke from the heart. I shared my story and emphasized what I believe to be the most important aspects of my journey - that it is a myth that young women are not affected by breast cancer, and that there needs to be more research and awareness for metastatic disease because no one dies from breast cancer unless they become metastatic. Research investigating why cancer cells metastasize and how to stop this from happening are the only ways we will actually find a true cure! Thankfully, I was able to get through my entire speech without breaking down. That was one of my goals because once those flood gates open, good luck getting them closed for awhile! I want to thank Mike for literally and figuratively always standing right by my side, no matter what. There is no one I would rather travel down this road with than you! Thank you to my family and friends that came out to support me and to all of you that sent me well wishes and good luck vibes from afar. I am so thankful that I have received such amazing feedback from this - especially from my friends in the metastatic breast cancer community. I truly wanted to represent them well and speak on behalf of every single one of them. If you would like to see my speech, please click on the link below. Looks like I can cross this one of my bucket list..."Share your story in front of 5,000 people!" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIGpjie-3aE&feature=youtu.be Here are a few pics from the day that Kyle captured... I don't know what made Mike happier - listening to me speak or meeting MSU's football coach, Mark Dantonio and hearing him mention me in his speech to the crowd. I love all of you guys - thank you so much for coming! Sorry we missed Aunt Erin, Mary, Melis, Brad and Payton in our group pic. Well, tomorrow at 6:30am we are due to check in at the hospital for my next scheduled surgery - never a dull moment around here I guess. :) My surgery will begin at 8am and will last a couple of hours, followed by a couple of hours in recovery before I am able to head home. This is (hopefully) the last major step in my reconstruction process. Tomorrow, Dr. M will open up my scars from the double mastectomy and he will proceed to remove the tissue expanders and replace them with implants. He will then make some fine-tuning adjustments to ensure a proper fit, size and shape. Dr. M has informed me that I will likely be sore and down and out for a few days. I will have strict restrictions to avoid any lifting, carrying, pushing or pulling for 2 weeks at a minimum, and no returning to work for at least 4 weeks. Thankfully, momma nurse Jan and Mike will be here all weekend and into next week making sure that I am doing just fine. I am expecting surgery to go smoothly and that I will have an uneventful and speedy recovery. I would greatly appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers as I head into surgery tomorrow - not just for me but for my family as they anxiously await the outcome, and for my medical team that will be taking care of me. Thank you all so much for your enduring support and we will be sure to update you soon once I am out of surgery. xoxo, Meghan
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Hi-ya friends...the Malley household is hustling and bustling like the good ole' days lately. Mike is in full swing with the baseball season (pun intended...hehe), I have officially started a new business venture (which I'll fill you in on soon), and I have been super busy juggling all sorts of other things like meetings about returning to work and getting tons done around the house before my next surgery...which is in 8 days! yikes! It finally feels like we are back to a little bit of what life was like before I was diagnosed - full schedules involving both work and play, cooking & eating dinner together every night (and at the kitchen table - no longer eating while laying on the couch or in bed), and just enjoying feeling well enough to tackle all sorts of things. I realized that my 30th birthday came and went without me ever wrapping up my ambitious "30 before 30" list. I will admit - I didn't accomplish everything. But I will say, it was a valiant effort and I will definitely continue to cross off the rest of my list as the year progresses. Here is how I fared.... I have some pretty big things coming up in the next week. This coming Sunday, April 29 is the Mid-Michigan Race for the Cure in Lansing. I am proud to be the "New Balance Honorary Survivor" of this years race and I will be speaking at the opening ceremonies on the steps of the Capital building. I am using this opportunity to not only share my story, but stress the critical importance of further research in the field of breast cancer. I think that Komen and other organizations have done a great job of spreading awareness - but it's time for more! We all know what a pink ribbon means. Now it's time to really step up our game and put our money where our mouth is and find a cure! I am nervous to be speaking in front of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people but I feel like it is my responsibility to advocate for myself and the other men and women that are battling for their lives right along side me. Publicly speaking about myself and what I have been through is always an emotional thing for me so I am grateful that some of my close friends and family members will be there to support me. That truly means so much to me. The opening ceremonies begin at 1pm at the Capital in Lansing. If you would like more information, want to join our team, or donate to this cause, please click here. The next big thing on the agenda after the Race for the Cure is that I will be having surgery next Friday, May 4. This is the next step in my reconstruction process. The surgery itself should only take a couple hours and I will come home that same day. I will share more details on that next week but needless to say, undergoing surgery is always an anxious time. I will once again be asking for all of you prayer warriors out there to start storming the heavens again. In the meantime, here are some snapshots from my iphone to show you what I have been up to lately....weekly trips to the farmers market, lots of Kettering baseball games, new tasty recipes, juicing my veggies, roughly 30 or so pills every morning and then again at night, zoo trips with friends, doctors appointments, and babysitting our sweet Goddaughter...life is good! Hope you all have a great weekend and that I see some of you on Sunday at the Mid-Michigan Race for the Cure in Lansing! xoxo, Meg Could you hear the sound of my huge exhale this morning?! I think I let out the biggest, loudest sigh of relief I have ever experienced in my life. The scan results were great - thank you God! I am so grateful, so relieved, so over the moon with hope and optimism.
Leading up to this day, I had been feeling an odd sense of calm about these results. Of course there was a part of me that was nervous, but it was different this time. I felt such a sense of peace and faith that no matter what Dr. F told us, it would be okay. If the results weren't what we hoped, we would figure out a new path and continue to travel down it with just as much determination as we have up to this point. But then my back started hurting a little bit - and the nerves started to set in a little. My back had been feeling great but it started to feel a little more achy and stiff the past few days and I started thinking, "oh my God, is this a sign that it has spread throughout my bones?" Mike reminded me that we spent many hours sitting in uncomfortable conference chairs in New Orleans and then walked 5 or 6 miles a day as we explored the Big Easy. But, I couldn't help but worry that it was a bad omen. Even still, I felt good this morning - I felt calm and pretty relaxed heading into my appointment. That was until Dr. F walked into the room. Last time, he walked right in and said, "your scans look good". Boom - good news right off the bat - then I could breathe. Well, this time he walked in looking more serious than normal. Immediately, I looked over at Mike and felt worried. He proceeded to ask me about my symptoms and how I was feeling...why is he asking me this first? Does that mean things are worse? What isn't he saying? He then asked about New Orleans and we chatted about the conference, he did a full physical exam and it wasn't until about 8 hours later (or so it seemed) that he finally sat down on his stool and said, "the scans look good". AHHHHH.....I can breathe! And then the floodgates opened. I couldn't help but cry - for the first time ever, I cried in front of one of my doctors. Tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of gratitude. Overall, the scans showed no new evidence of disease. The medications I am taking are continuing to keep the cancer under control and prevent the further spread of the disease. The spots that have been visible on my spine continue to show evidence of healing. I can continue to stay the course and keep doing what I am doing. THANK YOU GOD! Thank you to all of you for your continued prayers, cards, emails, texts, etc. I truly believe in the power of prayer and I feel so blessed to have hundreds of people around the country (and some even around the world), praying for me and my family and sending us positive thoughts and well wishes. I can never say enough how much it means to us. I am not only celebrating this news with Mike and my mom, Doug and Jeff - but with my extended family, my friends, and each and every one of you that has followed my journey and kept me in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you so much! Life is good - have a wonderful day and take some time to be grateful for all the blessings in your life! xoxo, Meg ps - I haven't had time to go through all my pics from the conference and New Orleans yet. I took over 500 of them! But here are a few quick shots from my iphone :) We had a wonderful time in New Orleans and I can't wait to tell you more about it soon! Let the "scanxiety" begin....ugh, it's that dreaded time of year when I get all my scans redone. I try very hard to remain calm, optimistic and hopeful - but let me tell you, it's pretty tough. I have come to realize that this scanxiety is something that will never go away. It doesn't matter how many times I have a good scan - the worry, doubt and fear all come creeping back in when it's time to be scanned again. Although I like to focus on how wonderful it will feel to get news that I am still in remission, that I can stay on my current treatment regimen, and that everything I have been through is paying off - I can't help but be terrified of the alternative. That the cancer is active again, that it's spread, that my medicines are no longer effective, that it's infiltrated my liver or brain. My wonderful friend Meredith has taught me to try to think of the worst possible scenario and how I would handle that, and what would our plan be. That way, it takes away some of the fear of the unknown and you can try to help prepare yourself in some way should that be the news you receive. I have been spending some time thinking about this lately and trying to think about how my life could once again change in an instant when Dr. F delivers my scan results. Would I have to start chemo again? Would I need more radiation? Do I need to start new medications? What would the side effects of those be? Do I need to look into clinical trials? Last night as Mike and I laid in bed, I asked him that very question -"What would we do if the results show it has spread?" His response is just another example of why I am so blessed to have him love me. Without hesitation, he simply stated, "We would do anything we had to do to get you better." Over the course of these past 11 months, I have been slowly adjusting to living a life with cancer. I have come to understand that I will deal with this disease and its effects in one way or another for the rest of my life. Fine - no problem - I can do that. I just want to remain stable. I pray that the disease is still stable, and that I can continue living my life as I am right now. Aside from a few minor things, I have very little side effects with my current treatment plan. I feel good about 90% of the time. I am enjoying being back at the gym and back to yoga classes. I look forward to returning to my job after my next surgery. I am able to travel and spend time with family and friends without worrying too much about how my body will hold up. So, I can't help but worry about these upcoming results changing all of this for me. I used to say, "okay, I have cancer but hopefully I won't lose my hair", and then it went to "okay, I have to lose my hair but maybe I won't have to lose my breasts." Then it once again changed to, "well, I have to lose my breasts but please just let me still be able to have children." Sadly that statement was forced to transform once again into, "well, I can't have children but please just let me be stable and lead a long life with Mike." And of course "stability" is what I truly want - if I can't be cured (although I do still believe in miracles!), then I pray for stability - for a long, long time. But it all truly boils down to one thing - I can (and have) given up so, so much - and I would gladly do it again in a heartbeat if I knew it would allow me to lead a long and happy life with the people I love. But you see, no one can make such promises. None of us know what our future holds and how much time we have. The difference is that I never used to worry about dying before - I took it for granted that not everyone is afforded a long and healthy life like I assumed I would have. So, I have to make the conscious decision to try to release the worry and fear and give it up to God because I am not the one in control. All I can do is continue to live each day to the fullest and be grateful for each day. With that said, I would sincerely appreciate as many prayers, healing thoughts, and uplifting words as you can possibly share right now. These times are very tough- not only myself, but for Mike, Mom, Doug and Jeff as we all anxiously await the results. Please pray that this disease is still in remission, that my spine is healing, that my organs are free and clear of disease, and that our anxiety and worry doesn't consume us while we wait for the results. My tests are scheduled for this Tuesday and Wednesday and we won't receive the results until the following Thursday, which is March 1st. You have no idea how much your prayers, thoughts, and comments help lift us up and keep our spirits high during these times! Thankfully, Mike and I will have a great distraction from my scan results. We leave for New Orleans on Thursday morning! We are actually going to attend a breast cancer conference but we will have plenty of extra time to just enjoy the city on our own. We are such great travel partners and always have the best time when we are exploring somewhere new with each other. Exactly one year ago was the last trip we took by ourselves when we visited Seattle just a few weeks before I was diagnosed. Check out some images from our trip here. We had the best time and I am sure New Orleans will be no different! Friday evening through Sunday morning we will be attending the Annual Conference for Young Women Affected by Breast Cancer. Young women under the age of forty come from all over the world to attend this conference. There are excellent guests speakers, many of which are leading researchers in the field of breast cancer. There are numerous break out sessions dealing with everything from integrative medicine, an update on the latest metastatic research, and even sessions solely for male caregivers. We are both looking forward to learning a lot and I also hope to meet other young women with metastatic disease such as myself. Of course, we will find plenty of time for some beignets at Cafe du Monde, grabbing a great cajun meal, and checking out the sites of the French Quarter. We are really looking forward to it. Thanks in advance for all of your thoughts and prayers for my upcoming tests - I will be sure to update the blog next week once I get the results!
xoxo, Meghan As Mike laid in the hospital bed in pre-op, we laughed at each other and decided we are much more comfortable in our usual roles. I couldn't help but giggle as I watched my normally calm and collected husband become anxious and jittery while I became the quiet (yet nervous) caregiver waiting in the wings. Thankfully, Mike's surgery went just as his surgeon had hoped it would and he is feeling better each day. He started to go a little nuts sitting around the house after a few days, so he happily returned to work on Monday. There is still a ways to go as far as wound healing is concerned, but we are glad this little speed bump is behind us. Thank you so much for your thoughts and prayers - we truly appreciated it so much! Although this was the first week in a very long time that I wasn't at Karmanos, I still had a couple other doc appointments to go to. On Monday I met with my plastic surgeon Dr. M for my follow up now that radiation is over. He is very pleased with how well my skin looks. You would never believe how quickly it healed! The bright red, perfect square outline that adorned my chest two weeks ago has almost completely disappeared. I honestly contribute this to religiously applying Aquaphor all over my chest three times each day, in conjunction with a very healthy diet. Dr. M said everything looks great and we can proceed with our plan to swap out the expanders and put in the implants. That surgery is now scheduled for May 4 and I am very much looking forward to it! Aside from doc appointments, another big appointment I had this week was to get my hair did! ;) For the first time since shaving my hair 10 months ago, I was ready! It has been growing like a weed since the late summer and I was fearful I would wake up any day now with a mullet so I knew something must be done, stat! I went to a new hairstylist that does a lot of short 'dos and she came up with a great plan for me. It's a little tricky to try to keep a cute short style since my ultimate goal is to grow it back out. She just trimmed it up a bit and blew out the curls a little so that I ended up with this wavy faux-hawk...what do you think?! While I was at the salon, I experienced something that I knew was bound to happen but I just wasn't sure when. All of these many months since my diagnosis, I have lived in somewhat of a cocoon. Nearly everyone I encountered knew my story, or could tell I was bald, or saw me at Karmanos where every patient is obviously dealing with cancer. It has always made me feel protected and secure. But I knew that the time was swiftly approaching when I would enter back into the real world and have to try to be "normal" again - not Meghan, the cancer patient. I had a feeling it would be a difficult transition. The hairdresser asked, "So, what's going on with your hair? What do you want to do today?" I proceed to tell her and her assistant that I lost my hair from chemo and this is my first haircut since it started growing back at the end of the summer. I am proud of being a cancer survivor and I have no shame sharing this with them. Well, her next set of questions go something like this... Hairdresser: So, what kind of cancer 'did' you 'have'? Me: Breast cancer Hairdresser: Did you have surgery too? Me: Yep, chemo followed by surgery and then radiation Hairdresser: Wow, so now that all of that is done, you are cancer free and it's gone?! Me: Ugh..........um, well, not exactly.......(start sweating and feeling a little awkward) This is where I think, "crap, I knew this was going to happen eventually". How do you try to explain to someone that you didn't 'have' cancer. That you still do HAVE cancer and that you always will. How do you try to make other people understand without freaking them out or having to spend an eternity sharing your life story with them? Me: Well, actually I have stage IV breast cancer which means it has spread past my breast and lymph nodes to other areas of my body, like my spine. There is no cure for it. Hairdresser: (looks dumbfounded, mouth agape) Oh really? (It's obvious she doesn't know what to say next) Are you going to lose your hair again? ***It's at about this time that I notice that I have also captured the attention of the clients and hairdressers on either side of my chair*** Me: Well, there is a chance I will have to have chemo again. I am in remission right now and hope to stay that way. As long as my cancer behaves and doesn't start causing problems again, I will be okay. She was a total sweetheart and was very kind and compassionate. But none the less, it was a difficult moment for me. Sure, I could've just said - "yep, I am in remission" and left it like that. It would have led her to believe I am cancer free and have put that chapter behind me like many survivors are able to do. That would have been the easier route. That would have made her and the others listening a lot more comfortable. It would have opened the door for them to say, "Yay! Congratulations! That is great that you are a survivor!" But I don't get those kind of cheers. Many people have no clue what to say or how to react. And I don't blame them for that in the slightest. But, that does not mean I mislead them into thinking I am cancer-free. So many of us with metastatic cancer already feel like we are overlooked, or ignored - that our stories aren't shared - that our triumphs aren't celebrated because we aren't able to be that perfect success story - the one that is the happy ending that everyone wants to hear. I refuse to help perpetuate that problem. So, although it made me a little uncomfortable, and although it sparked a few blank stares my way, and even if it incited a hot flash - I will continue to share my story - the real one, the uncensored one. I am sorry if it makes someone feel uncomfortable but I would be doing a huge disservice to all of us that battle chronic illnesses if I didn't speak honestly about what I am dealing with. Rather than being part of the problem, I am choosing to be part of the solution. I see it as a privilege to educate as many people as I can and to let them know that there are thousands of people out there like me. We are still survivors! We are surviving this disease each and every hour, each and every day - and we need you to help support us and celebrate our victories with us, no matter how small they may seem. So although this transition back into the "real world" hasn't fully taken place, certain aspects of it have begun. I know once I eventually return to work and interact with new patients again, somehow my cancer may come up. Or when I meet someone new in my personal life and they ask if we are going to have children, this may come up. I don't plan on rambling to every stranger I meet at the grocery store about my disease and what the word metastatic means, but when the situation presents itself and I am faced with that choice to either gloss over the details of my diagnosis or share the truth behind it, I will always choose the latter. And I believe we will all be better for it. Well, it's now 2:20am and my alarm is set to go off at 6:20am so I better hit the hay. Will I be tired in the morning? Sure thing. But will I really care? No way. Want to know why? Because I am headed to West Palm Beach, Florida to visit this little munchin and help celebrate his 1st birthday!!! That's right...I am escaping the cold and headed to sunny Florida for a nice long weekend. I cannot wait to see Brinley, Andy and little Andrew! I haven't seen them since a super quick visit while we were in Fort Lauderdale for Labor Day. It's going to be the perfect "end of radiation celebration" gift to myself and can't wait to see my favorite Floridian friends. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!
xoxo, Meg ps - If you could say an extra prayer for my friend, Pam as she undergoes a double mastectomy on Monday. Pam, I am sure it will go just fine and you will be back up on your feet before you know it! Hang in there! The alarm starts beeping at 8:10am and it's amazing how exhausted I feel. Wait, how is this possible? Didn't I just sleep for 7 or 8 hours? Ah yes, then I remember that the word "sleep" doesn't really have the same meaning to me anymore. Every night I crawl into bed and shiver in my pj pants and tank top, hoping that the chills will subside once I snuggle up next to Mike since he radiates heat like nobody's business! Once I stop shivering, my body starts to relax and I begin to drift off to sleep. Could be just an hour or maybe three or four and I awake to feeling like I'm on fire - hence only the tank top to bed. Sweating, wet, and feeling like I can't rip off the covers fast enough. Oh hot flashes and night sweats, how I loathe you. Thank goodness for my trusty remote to my ceiling fan because I honestly feel like I am sunbathing in the middle of the Sahara. Poor Mike usually wakes up to the cool summer breeze that I just created during the dead of winter in our bedroom and asks through his sleepy haze if I can shut it off yet. Sorry dear, grab another blanket because I am roasting over here! After awhile the fire slowly dies down and I am able to curl back up in bed, pull the covers up and try to fall back to sleep. But, have you ever worked out, sweat, and then come home and sit around for a bit in wet clothes? If you have, you know that the next thing that happens is your body gets freezing cold and chilled. So here I go on the opposite extreme - shivering, slightly pull on Mike's shirt which he instinctively knows means to roll over and spoon me to try to warm me up. Do I get out of bed and put on a long sleeve shirt? No way Jose! Because by now you should see the pattern and realize that long sleeves will be my arch nemesis when I am hit with the next hot flash in another few hours. And so the cycle continues. All the while, tossing and turning from one side to the other. No longer able to sleep on my stomach like I have for 29 years due to these tissue expanders in my chest. I am naturally more comfortable on my right side compared to my left but I often awake in the night worrying - "have I laid on my right arm for too long", "am I causing too much compression", "is this going to cause lymphedema issues", "crap, my hand is numb, better turn over". Then mix in the bouts of relentless itching across my chest that often happen in the night - but I'll get to that in a bit.....Ah yes, now I remember why I am so tired when that alarm goes off. After a few minutes of hitting snooze, I drag myself into the shower, begin my morning routine, then off I go to radiation. I have completed 26 treatments so far, every Monday through Friday, and pretty much drive to Karmanos on autopilot at this point. It's my own personal "Groundhog Day". I leave at the same time every morning, take the same route, park in the same lot, am greeted with the same cheerful smile and "Good morning, Meghan!" from Felicia at the front desk as I scan my personal Karmanos ID card to check in. I immediately head to the private changing area for radiation patients and go directly into Room #2. Not sure why but I have gone into Room #2 for each of my 26 treatments and I am sure I will for the remaining 7. I lock both doors on either side of the room, place my purse in my locker, change into my gown, open both doors back up and head out the opposite side I came in - into a private waiting room just for radiation patients. There is a row of comfy reclining chairs, a nice flat screen tv, and even a little basket of snacks. They treat us right at Karmanos :) For the first half of my radiation sessions, my appointments were in the afternoon so I often had to wait in my comfy chair for a few minutes until my name was called. Right before Christmas, I switched to the mornings when a spot opened up so I could just get radiation out of the way and get on with my day. Since making that switch, I rarely ever even sit down in the waiting room. The second I come out of Room #2, one of my lovely radiation therapists is standing in the doorway, greeting me with a smile and telling me they are ready for me. As I exit my cozy little waiting room, I head down a hallway that has a massive door in front of it. Plastered on the door are bright and bold "CAUTION" signs welcoming you into the wild world of radiation. As I turn the corner at the end of the hall, I am greeted with this big guy pictured below - the external beam radiation therapy machine. He's not as intimidating as he looks, I promise. The tv screen in the upper right corner of the picture below has my lovely face plastered on it (a really hideous picture, I might add!) and it's at that point that I have to say, "Yes, that's me. Let's get this party started!" I untie my gown, jump up on the table and get myself in perfect position...top of head aligned with the top of the headrest, right arm out of gown, left arm at side with hand on hip, legs straight and uncrossed, feet together, right arm stretched out to side and supported in armrests, head turned to left side. Normal breaths, no deep breathing, no holding the breath. No itching, no coughing, no movement of any kind. Relax those muscles, let the shoulders come down, release the tension in your traps. Like I said, it's Groundhog Day - I have this down to a science by now. The picture below allows you to see what is underneath the sheet that I lay on. The circular blue object is a headrest, and the two blue objects on the left are where I rest my arm in order to leave my chest and axilla exposed. There are numerous dials and switches, allowing for customization for each patient. They have this set up perfectly for me before I enter the room each day based on the measurements they collected during my very first visit. Once I am positioned properly on the table, the ladies read off various numbers from the tv screen which list all of the parameters for my radiation treatment. They use those numbers to make sure I am in the exact same position for every single treatment. The table is elevated, pushed back towards the machine, and moved centimeter by centimeter into the right position. They then turn off the lights, which then allows green laser beams to become visible. These laser beams are used to make sure they line up with my radiation tattoos (yep, permanent ones!), so that they can ensure I am in precisely the same spot for each treatment. Once I am all lined up and ready to go, the therapists turn the lights back on, race out of the room, and close that huge door I previously mentioned in order to protect themselves from the radiation. The first round of radiation comes directly head on while my chest is positioned exactly under the circular part of the machine pictured above. I know shortly after the ladies leave the room that a loud noise will begin, accompanied by a red light indicating that radiation is taking place. I close my eyes at that very second, as I have for each treatment session since the very first day, and I visualize the radiation destroying any last remnant of disease left in me. Not just in my chest, but everywhere. I visualize these nasty cells being vaporized and replaced with nothing but healthy and revitalized tissue. When the room becomes quiet again and the red light shuts off, I open my eyes. The ladies come back in and change the position of the table to line me up for treatment #2 which comes on an angle from the left side of my chest. The huge machine rotates around me until that circular arm is in place and after I am properly positioned, the process starts again. During the third and final round, the arm of the machine rotates all the way around to the right side and radiates from that angle. Within 10-15 minutes or so, I am hopping off the table and on my merry way. Up until last week, I also received a bolus treatment every other day. This meant that a soaking wet towel was placed over the entire radiation field over the right side of my chest and axilla. The wet towel simulates my skin so that the radiation treatment ends up being more superficial those days, targeting my actual skin versus the deeper tissues in my chest. This was stopped last week once the skin on my chest started to become redder and more irritated. The week after Christmas I started to get more of a burn on my chest and then little red bumps appeared, similar to what happens when you get sun poisoning. Dr. R, my radiation oncologist gave me hydrocortisone cream to start applying on those areas in addition to the Aquaphor that I have to put all over my chest three times each day since radiation started. Over the next few days, my skin became redder, more itchy, more irritated. It was so bright red, like a very severe sunburn. Then on Monday I noticed a blister - uh oh, this is no good. I stopped using the hydrocortisone one day and swore I noticed that my skin looked better. Well, I have come to trust my gut instincts so much more these days and I started to feel like maybe I was having some sort of reaction to the hyrdocortisone. To make an even longer story shorter, although it would be extremely rare, Dr. R believed me when I told her my theory so we stopped the hydrocortisone and switched to another topical steroid. We also stopped the bolus treatments at that time to give my skin a break. Well, what do you know - my skin has become dramatically better ever since and it turned out I did have an allergic reaction to the hydrocortisone. I am so glad we figured that out and that my skin is a little less irritated. Aside from the skin issues, the fatigue is really getting to me. I am still staying super busy but I feel exhausted by the end of the day - sometimes even by the middle of the day actually. :) I have also headed back to the gym so that wears me out a bit too, even though I know it's worth it. Katie and I were always gym buddies before I was diagnosed - we are a perfect pair together because when one of us doesn't feel like going, the other one makes us go and get that workout in. Well, my gym membership has been on hold all these months during treatment but I knew I wanted to go back right after the new year. Katie just had sweet little Alice this fall so she was just now ready to go back too. It was perfect timing for us to get back into the groove together. We made it to the gym four times together last week and we plan to do the same each and every week - and it feels great! I am taking it slow and not being too hard on my body but it sure feels good to be exercising again and I am more motivated than ever now that I know my health truly depends on it! That's the latest and greatest with me. Threw a lot of info at ya this time, huh? Well, if that wasn't enough and you would like to learn more information on exactly what radiation therapy is, the purpose and how it's administered, please click here. Addendum - After writing this post I just found out that some things may change and Monday might end up being my last day of radiation. Yay! It's a long story and a little confusing and I won't even know until I get there on Monday if it's my last day or not but that would be great to finish up a little early. Keep your fingers crossed. :) Before I wrap up, I would like to wish my big bro a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Jeff, I know I was the annoying little sister that followed you around, bugged you and your friends, and always got on your nerves as kids. But I am so grateful that we have grown up to be such great friends. You have always been there for me - sticking up for me to an elementary school bully, driving 5 hours to pick me up in college just to immediately turn around for the drive back just so I could come home for a visit, to bringing me dinner and hanging out when I am not feeling like getting off the couch these days. You have been so supportive these past 10 months, and I hope you know how much that means to me. I love you very much and I hope you have the great birthday you deserve. Looking forward to celebrating with you tonight. xoxo, Meghan ps - please don't kill me for posting these pictures of you...I couldn't help myself! :) We've come a long way from our curly little afros...except I happen to be rocking an afro again these days - darn it ;)
We finally received the good news we were praying for! Thank you, Lord!!! And thank you to all of you, our amazing family and friends for your non-stop prayers and well wishes - it definitely paid off! I am totally wiped out from an extremely long and exhausting day, so hopefully I include all of the important details. We had long appointments with both Dr. F and Dr. B today which meant we were at doctors offices from 9:45am until 3pm with a one hour break for lunch in the car while driving. It's all worth it though, for such great news! We met with Dr. F first and he informed us right away that the test results looked great! He said that the CT, MRI, and bone scan showed the following... --breast tumors demonstrate significant shrinking --axillary lymph nodes demonstrate shrinking --there is evidence of healing in the bone throughout my spine --no new evidence of disease! BOOYAH! (okay, not exactly Dr. F's words) Overall, this was the best possible news we could have received and we couldn't be more relieved and thankful! I am so grateful that these past five months of chemo haven't been for nothing, and that the cancer is actually responding well. Dr. F was very pleased and said that we are definitely headed in the right direction. He said that the imaging studies will always show abnormalities throughout my thoracic spine where there has been cancer, but now there appears to be evidence of healing. He even said that I may not have to have radiation to my spine, which would be wonderful! The rest of my appointment with him consisted of formulating our plan of where we go from here. So, here's the latest... --start hormone therapy (Tamoxifen) - a daily oral medication which will interfere with the activity of estrogen, which is what is feeding my cancer --start Zoladex - a monthly injection to suppress my ovary function. This will shut down my ovaries and stop them from making estrogen so that the tumors cannot get the estrogen they need to grow. This also means MENOPAUSE! Just another "perk" of having the big C. ;) Who would have thought I would start menopause at the age of 29?! --after surgery, start Denosumab - a monthly injection to strengthen my bones and try to protect them from further damage due to metastasis So, today I started the Tamoxifen and received my first injection of Zoladex - a humungous needle which is injected into my abdomen = fun times! I will have a follow up appointment with Dr. F in 6 weeks and will be re-scanned every 6 months at the absolute latest - it could be earlier than that if I am having any new symptoms or concerns. After a collective high five between Mike, Mom and I, we nearly skipped out of Karmanos and headed over to Beaumont to meet with Dr. B. After a physical exam and review of my imaging results, Dr. B also informed us that she was very pleased with my progress. She said that she didn't expect my cancer to respond so well to the chemo since it normally responds best to the hormone therapy. We met with Dr. B for at least an hour, discussing all the details of the surgery, what I can expect, and what recovery will be like. Dr. B's wonderful nurse, Linda then used this great new device to take some measurements of my arms in order to compare them to post-op measurements to track any possible lymphedema. Lastly, we finally set our date for surgery. Friday, October 14 is the big day for the bilateral mastectomy. I am definitely nervous about it but happy to finally have a plan and know when it will be. This will give me some time to get my energy level and blood counts back up since they are still pretty low due to chemo. So, that's the latest and greatest news! More upcoming appointments on the horizon are... --meeting with Dr. M my plastic surgeon on October 3 for final preparations before surgery and the start of the reconstruction process --meet with another new team member, Dr. R who is a physical medicine and rehabilitation doc at Beaumont to take more pre-op measurements and assessments. He will also be the one to let me know what my restrictions after surgery are and when I can start physical therapy in order to get my range of motion back in my arms....good thing I have some connections to some awesome PT's :) --meet with another new team member, Dr. R who will be my radiation oncologist. I will meet with her before surgery to discuss our plan for radiation to my right breast and chest wall, and possibly my spine. Radiation will start about 4-6 weeks after surgery. As you can see, it's going to be a long road ahead. But what better motivation to forge ahead than receiving such terrific news, like I did today! I can't thank you enough for being there for me - for all of the texts, phone calls, emails, blog posts, and facebook messages I received in the last couple of days. It truly makes me feel better to know that I have so many people praying for me - you guys are the best! Keep the prayers coming because we still have a long way to go. But for now, I will bask in this great news. For the next five weeks, I am going to focus much of my attention on trying to regain my energy, slowly begin exercising again, and taking the absolute best care of myself in anticipation of surgery. And you know I will also be mixing in fun times like this Saturday at the U of M game (thanks Aunt Clare!), a friends wedding, taking my hubby to a great concert, many birthday parties, strutting my stuff in a charity fashion show, our fundraiser on September 25, trips to the cider mill...and much more! Thanks again everyone! And thank you God for answering our prayers! xoxo, Meghan In honor of the coming of my favorite season, here are some fall pics from a wonderful trip to the U.P a couple of years ago... Well, it was bound to happen, and today was the day. I hit my first real low point. Everything hit me like a ton of bricks today, and I am not going to lie...it was tough - one of the toughest days of my life. I think it was a combination of a very long day(first appointment at 7:30 am and last appointment ended at 5pm with not much down time in between), lack of sleep, and the reality of it all truly setting in. I had a bone scan this morning to further investigate my spine to see if the cancer has spread there. It was terrifying as I lay on the hard table and glanced over on the screen to see an area of my spine light up - indicating increased radioactivity - which means that something abnormal is going on there. But I tried not to worry too much and waited until Dr. F (the oncologist) explained the findings later in the afternoon. We then spent a few hours at Karmanos this afternoon meeting with Dr. F for the first time. It was great to meet him, discuss all of the test results, get all of our questions answered, and establish a treatment plan. But let me be honest and say, it was incredibly overwhelming, scary, and surreal. There are still some random moments throughout the day where I forget I have cancer for a minute - but today was a huge slap in the face and reality set in. We met with Dr. F for a few hours so I will try to summarize the latest and greatest news of this roller coaster ride that our lives have become....
Thankfully, we continue to have the most amazing support system ever! Coming home to a porch full of groceries from a co-worker, food in my fridge from Julie, and the most incredible and thoughtful care package from Brinley, all helped me get out of my funk and smile again. Mike & I have become completely overwhelmed (in a good way!) by all of the wonderful cards, gifts, flowers and food that people have sent our way. I have realized that it is no longer possible for me to include every personal thank you on the blog because each post would go on forever. :) Please know that we sincerely appreciate every single nice word and gesture that is sent our way and it means more to us than you will ever know! I honestly don't know how I could get through this without all of your support. You all think that I am so strong - but really that strength comes from all of you lifting us up through your encouraging words, thoughts, and prayers. For all of these things, I am eternally grateful. xoxo, Meghan ps. Thank you for all of the photography love! Over the last two years, it has become a true passion of mine and I can't get enough of it :) A few days before I was diagnosed with cancer, I was accepted for an internship with an amazing professional photographer, Jennifer Grant. I was so excited to begin this journey and get the chance to soak up all the knowledge I could from Jennifer. Unfortunately, I have had to withdraw from this opportunity so that I can devote all of my time and attention to beating this cancer! For those of you that asked to see more of my photography, please check it out at Meg Malley Photography. This journal & I have become attached at the hip. It contains all of my questions & concerns, appointments, and all that other good stuff that I would never be able to remember otherwise. It's like my own version of American Express..."can't leave home without it". The most thoughtful, handmade bracelet and pocket angel charms with my name engraved on them. Thank you so much to my wonderful friend Katie and her mom, Barb. I will treasure these always. |
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