99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall...

It's Day 6 post-surgery. I am sooooooo bored. I really have cabin fever now. I want to go out and play. When I mentioned that to my mother, she threatened me. Hey, I am 40 years old. She can't tell me what to do.:) I am actually at the point where I am looking forward to going out to see doctors on Thursday. Once I am free of the drains on Thursday, I will have a little more mobility. I can't risk getting an infection until then. I walk from the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen to the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen.... There is a whole world happening in Atlanta in the summer, and I am not experiencing it now. Geez! Now, there are 98 bottles of beer on the wall...

I Will Survive

My surgery was on Monday, but I am doing amazingly well. The only pain that I having is from the two drains that are coming out of my chest wall amd a little discomfort from the tissue expander that is stretching the skin to make room for my implant. Ouch! I'm not a fan of pain medications so I am grinning and bearing it. I have the most wonderful family and friends. Over 20 people were at the hospital for me when I had my surgery, including my boss/mentor and 87 year old great-aunt. I know that my grandmother was smiling down from Heaven. Even my doctors were touched by the support. I hate that my family and friends have to go through cancer with me again. Both of my parents slept in the hospital room with me that night. I guess that they were afraid to leave my side.

Unfortunately, all did not go well during the surgery. The cancer has spread to my lymph node. I found out that information in the recovery room. That means that I will definitely have to get chemotherapy again. Shoot! I finally got my hair to the length and color that I want. Oh well! This too shall pass. I picked out a cute lace-front wig that matches my hair texture and length a couple of weeks ago. Who knew that a synthetic wig could cost $700!

I have the greatest plastic surgeon, Dr. Albert Losken, and surgeon, Dr. Rogsbert Phillips. Dr. Losken's resident asked me what I thought about the way my breast looked. I told her that I wasn't ready to look at my breast yet. She then said, "Trust me; look at it." My breast looks awesome for what is has been through. It is half the original size, but I still have cleavage. The expanders hurt, but they will help me get to my D cup. My mother says that if I get Ds, she is going to pop them. :) She thinks that I will look like Dolly Parton. I weigh 100 pounds when I am soaking wet. It saddens me to know that all of this modern technology wasn't available for my aunts when they went through this years ago. My mom and aunt have been showing my cleavage off all this week to anyone who is curious.

Mr. Wonderful has been there every step of the way. He is ultra-private, but he gave me permission to discuss him on my blog. I had been avoiding him because I didn't want him to see me in pain and not looking up to par, but he insisted on seeing me. He has spent time with me and my family. I reminded him of my upcoming chemo, hair loss, and vomiting, but he still says that it will not change anything. He even admonished me in front of my family and told me to stop pushing him away. Sexy, huh? I am so glad that there are still some mature men in the world who are not superficial.

Congrats to my cousins, Stacey and Natalie, on the birth of my new cousin, Stacey. It's so great to have some good news in the family for once. Ok, nap time! Love to all!

I Surrender All

I rarely cry these days, but whenever Jennifer Holliday and the choir sing "I Surrender All" at church, my tears flow. I feel as if I am trying to be a Superhero, and that song is my theme song. I am a living testimony that sometimes we can't control what goes on in our lives; yet, we have to look to God and surrender all to Him to get through difficult times. I actually sang that song before the nurses rolled me into the OR both times so far, and I will be singing it tomorrow. I only wish that I could sing it like Jennifer Holliday.

Even though I am about to lose my breast tissue and undergo a lot of pain with the tissue expanders, I am amazingly calm and at peace. It meant a lot to me to have my family worship with me at church today. I had so many wonderful people come up to me and say that they were praying for me. After church service, my pastor, The Rev. Dr. Raphael Warnock, formed a prayer circle around me with my family and a couple of church members. That meant so much to me and my family.

My home pastor, Dr. Theodore Brown, texted me and told me that he would be lifting me up in prayer in service today. My new Mr. Wonderful gave me his personal prayer beads because he felt that I might need them more than he does now. I have gotten calls and text messages all day stating that I am on prayer lists all over the US. So many of my male friends who know that I can be a bit vain have called to reassure me that my beauty is not measured by my breasts and that their opinion of me will not change. Today, I was able to fulfill one of the my lifelong dreams of going to a professional baseball game with my father. My father and I used to watch baseball games on TV together when I was a child.

I am not a religious person, but I do consider myself a spiritual person. Some people have said that God is testing me now. That really bothers me because I don't believe that the God that I know and love would afflict me with cancer. However, I do believe that He is with me through this storm. So many people have told me that they are amazed by my strength and positive attitude. I am the way that I am truly because I surrender all to God.

Thanks To Lance Armstrong, I Am Having A Baby

As soon as my doctor told me that I would have to undergo chemotherapy, my first thought was that I needed to preserve my eggs. I am 40 years old, single, and without kids. As soon as I was able, I went on the Fertile Hope website. Fertile Hope is a program funded by Lance Armstrong and his ex-wife to help individuals who are about to undergo chemotherapy with fertility issues. Chemo can make one infertile. I did my research and found a wonderful doctor, Dr. Robert Straub, in the Atlanta area who will be responsible for my egg harvesting and storage. Thanks to Lance Armstrong, most of the costs will be paid by his foundation. Egg harvesting can cost more than $10,000. When Dr. Straub asked if I had a sperm donor, I told him that I have been looking for a sperm donor for 40 years with no success. When I saw him crack a smile, I knew that he was the man for the job. I wish that all doctors were as empathetic and brilliant as he is. I am not sure if I will become infertile after chemo, but now, I have a back-up method of having biological children. So thanks, Lance Armstrong for making it possible for me to have a baby.

What Cancer Cannot Do

Here's something that my Aunt Glo shared with me today:

Cancer has affected all of our lives, but the following poem says it all.
What Cancer Cannot Do
Author Unknown
Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the spirit.

The Power Of Saying, "Hi, How Ya Doing?"

Growing up as a preacher's grandchild, you become accustomed to speaking to people that you don't know. I've done that my whole life. I feel that everyone has a story. Some of my friends don't understand why I do what I do, but hey, that's me. Recently, after my biopsy, I went to the grocery store. The lady who bagged my groceries looked at me and said, "Are you okay? You haven't been here in awhile." Wow! I didn't even know that she ever noticed me. She seemed truly concerned when I told her that I had some health issues. When I went to another grocery store, the pharmacist asked me the same question. When I told him what was going on, he gave me a hug and said that he would say a prayer for me. Wow! Since then, many people have come up to me and said the same thing. The point is...you never know who may remember you and how much it may mean to someone for you to just speak to them and ask them how they are doing. I'm getting such incredible love and support from people that I know and people that I don't know. I've even heard from some ex-boyfriends who were jerks, and they have offered anything that they can do to help. I guess that even some of them have hearts after all. :)

To Perm or Not To Perm, That is the Question

I can't get a comb through my hair. Half of my hair is curly, and the other half is straight. I really need a perm, but I am thinking, "What's the point in spending the money on a perm when my hair will probably fall out in a few weeks anyway from the chemotherapy?" I keep changing my hair appointment because I can't make a decision on a perm. I guess that I need to go wig shopping soon. I didn't wear a wig during my first cancer battle. My mother reminded me that I threw the wig at her and told her, "If you like it, you wear it." Yep, I was angry then. I guess that I will wear a wig this time. It seems as if nobody in Atlanta has real hair anyway. I will just fit right in. :)

The Death Walk

I have been strong so far, but now, I see a chemotherapy infusion room in an oncologist's office. I don't want to have to be in there again. This time, my grandmother is no longer alive and can't hold my hand every day as she did the first time that I had chemotherapy. Later in the day, I am in another oncologist's office. A patient representative introduces herself as if we will be seeing a lot of each other. All of a sudden, my eyes water up. I can't believe that I am going through this again. The nurse calls my name. As she guides me down a long hallway to the patient room, I feel as if I am making the death walk to an electric chair. Instead, my chair will be the chemo infusion chair. My PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is kicking in. The geneticist and my cousin see that I am not handling this well. I need to pretend that I am okay. Remember Kim, you don't cry.

I Have No Good News

"I have no good news. It's cancer." After hearing those words from my surgeon, everything became a blur. I can't believe that I have cancer, again! I had just had a breast biopsy two years ago. I've been getting yearly mammograms. I missed my appointment with the surgeon last year, but my breasts were examined by my gynecologist. I do self-exams. How? Why? I thought that God wouldn't put more burdens on me than I could bear. I'm a good person! Oh wait, now I am hearing words like "chemotherapy" and "mastectomy." I see my mother crying while my aunt is consoling her. I hear my mom say, "Kim has already been through so much." I said to myself, "Not cancer, again! I can't believe this ****!"