The Hair Cut

My long blonde hair passed away on Friday May 21st at 4pm. Survivors of this passing is Lauren Drury the hair's owner. Unfortunately this passing was not a surprise to many but took much courage for the hair to forfeit it's life over for the fight against stupid cancer. My long blonde hair was a companion that I loved and cared for deeply. Throughout the many years of dying it multiple colors my hair still stood by me with confidence ready for the next adventure. It held it's blonde color with pride and took complements with ease, always making me feel good about myself. My long blonde hair has helped me build up confidence and has never left me wanting more style, thickness, or beauty. The words “bad hair day” are not in my long blonde hair's vocabulary! I only have many wonderful memories about my long blonde hair and will miss it everyday that it is gone. I know my hair wasn't prepared for cancer and me as well, but God has his own special plan for my life and if he doesn't reunite me with my glorious, lovely, vivacious, thick, blonde hair I might have a word with him. It has been a long journey hair and I love you so much, just know you will be missed and the second I have a chance to grow you out again I will!

The "Power Port" May 18th 2010

Tuesday May 18th I had surgery for a port placement. If you are unsure of what a "power port" is, please let me explain. A port is a small device which is surgically implanted completely beneath your skin. The port connects to a small tube (catheter) which is inserted inside one of your arteries which delivers blood to your heart. This is necessary because chemo is composed of very strong drugs that can destroy the skin and veins in your arm. Most cancer patients get a port. This triangle thing sticking out of my skin looks scary....like a broken bone. I took some pictures to show what the port looks like after two days of surgery. Also, along with this port you get a "power port" discharge packet. The packet includes an identification card, identification bracelet, key ring, patient guide, and companion checklist. It's serious stuff. I'm a little nervous about my first poke in the new "power port".....I see many Xanax in my future!

I have Cancer!

So, I have cancer. It feels so weird saying those words "I have cancer". I still have a hard time believing that I have cancer. I remember going into the breast center for an ultrasound thinking it would be nothing. In fact I had many people, including my doctor, assure me it would be nothing. The day of the ultrasound I could see on the technician's faces that something was wrong. They had a radiologist come into the room and tell me I would have to have a biopsy on the lumps in my breast "just to be on the safe side". I was shocked. I've never had anything abnormal about my health. The weekend passed and the day came where I had my biopsy done and the radiologist telling me he would call with the results the next day. Everyone reassured me it was going to be fine. The next day I got a call around noon at work. The radiologist told me I had cancer and started rambling on other things that didn't make any sense at the time. I just cried. I couldn't rap my head around what was going on, what he was saying, what was I going to do. I remember thinking how calm he was, like he had made this call a million times. Didn't he understand what he was saying to me? Once I got off the phone I called my mom who came and picked me up from work. We cried.......and maybe drank a little.
The hardest part about cancer is the waiting. You have to wait to get more tests, then wait for the results, then wait to meet the surgeon/oncologist/plastic surgeon. No test or doctor can tell you what exactly is going on until surgery......which leads to more waiting for an opening for surgery. My surgery was on April 22nd at 1:30pm. I couldn't wait to have surgery! I wanted to know what kind of cancer was in my breast. After surgery I found out that I had four small tumors in the upper left quadrant of my right breast, ranging in size from 0.5cm to 1.5cm. Though the tumor was very aggressive at Grade 3, the stage was 1. This means that the cancer hasn't spread to my lymph nodes and the tissue around my tumors were clear of any abnormal cells. This was good news....when you have cancer.
Now that I knew what type of cancer I had I could make a plan with my oncologist for treatment. Did you know that there is a computerized system that you can enter your age and diagnosis and it will summarize your chances of recurrence/death from your specific cancer? Well, they do and it's damn depressing. I thought I was lucky until some stupid computer program told me I only had a 50% chance of never getting cancer again if I didn't do chemo plus other therapy drugs.

So, this brings us to the present...of getting a port placed, cutting my hair, and having four rounds of chemotherapy!