Boobs On Ice™ : A Few Hours of Normal

This year my #3 daughter, the one lucky enough to still be at home, so the one who's able to experience ME on a daily basis, will be away from home the day I go through the ritual of putting on my red shirt and plopping down in front of the TV accompanied with lots of trash talk about the Ohio Buckeyes season. It's no secret that she's relieved.

She puts up with football because I love football. Otherwise, not even the idea that - hey: these guys are wearing tight pants - really does it for her.

She has no interest in who Colt Brennan's coach was at Hawaii, what the Mountain West league is doing, or how odd Favre looks in a Jets helmet.

And this year I expect no startling transformation. Nothing will really change about football days at my house. Not even Ohio Buckeye football days. The only difference will be inside my brain.

Last year I spent the opening weekend of the NFL season in the hospital because of a stroke and rounded the season out with surgery for breast cancer.

No matter what we claim, or how we talk the happy talk, experiences like that change the way people think and feel and react. There's a little niggle in the back of my mind about an odd sensation, or a follow up, or if what I'm snacking on has plant estrogens in it. So this year every football game I watch will be an excuse to quietly celebrate an hour or two of "normal."

For just a little while I'll just be a fan watching a game. OK, a fan watching a game and trash talk twittering.

About My Cancer

Invasive Lobular Carcinoma
My form of breast cancer is less common than others. In fact only about 6 to 8% of cases of breast cancer are the invasive form that is based in the lobules, not in the milk ducts.
Invasive, sometimes called Infiltrating, is a scary word. In most cases this form of breast cancer has been present for 8–10 years when detected by a mammogram or physical exam.
In my case there was clearly an area that felt thickened or dense on December 6, 2007. A mammogram the next afternoon was not able to detect it but it clearly appeared on ultrasound and was confirmed by multiple biopsies the same day.
During those 8 to 10 years the cancer took to become apparent to me, there has been plenty of opportunity for those invasive cells to get out of the breast and spread to the rest of the body.
It is after all, by definition, an invasive form of cancer.
Each year about 190 thousand women are diagnosed with invasive breast cancer in the US and about 40 thousand women will die of the disease. The larger the mass is when discovered the more risk. Mine had tentacled almost 5cm into the surrounding tissue and two other areas in the breast were discovered as well.
My chances of living another 10 years without cancer in another area are about 40%. The likelihood of one of my other underlying health conditions doing the job before that is 20%. it took a few months to get used to that idea.
Now though my attitude is that at least I know what I'm facing. It's just not what I expected. Life changes in an instant.

Comments

You've got a great blog... I actually found yours through a Google search on boobs. No, I'm not crazy, I'm writing a blog post about the Breast Cancer 3-Day. Anyway, just wanted to pop in and say hello and let you know I linked to you in my blog (but will unlink if you'd prefer me not to.)

Posted by: Donna | Aug 19, 2008 at 12:20 PM

Donna I love your comment. The normal visitors I get who google boobs are not talking about cancer :)

Thanks for both the visit and the link - oh - and the comment!

Posted by: Susan Reynolds | Aug 19, 2008 at 03:37 PM