Marla Crider with her new friend, Ms. Coco Chanel |
70-degree temperatures one day, and 28 degrees
the next with sleet and snow.
Oddly, the Thanksgiving holiday continues to be front-of-mind nearly two weeks after the fact, rather than the ever-present Christmas
season. Never has “turkey day” meant so much to me than it did this year – the
year in which I endured a breast cancer diagnosis, 4 ½ months of chemotherapy,
and a double mastectomy. Instead of just once a year, which seems to be the
custom for all of us, I now give thanks everyday for my blessed, cancer free
prognosis.
I was fortunate enough to spend Thanksgiving this year with
my family in northwest Arkansas ,
where more than a dozen loved ones gathered to express their own blessings. A few months ago, my nephew, Lane, and I
talked when he was in Little Rock
on business. I mentioned to him that my
mom, Happy, made me promise to never let the Crider family holiday dinners
become a thing of the past. Since her
death in 2006, we had all been lax in gathering to share our lives, especially
me. Between my job responsibilities and sharing
holidays with Don and his family in Dallas , I
hadn't pushed to spend equal time with the Crider clan in Fayetteville .
No longer will that be the case.
Had it not been for the amazing support and physical presence of my
brothers and sisters-in-law during my health crisis, I’m not sure my recovery
would have been nearly as successful. I
encourage my friends and colleagues to never, ever take for granted the family
bond that could mean the difference in sickness and good health, or even life
and death. I know from whereof I speak.
On October 11, my breast cancer was eradicated, when my rock
star surgeon, Suzanne Klimberg, strategically removed the diseased tissue from
the right breast, and as a precaution, the left breast tissue was removed, as
well. After only 24 hours in the
hospital, I recuperated at home with the help of my physician mate, Don.
For more than a week following surgery, I managed to
maneuver around the condo with the bulky drain tubes attached by a single stitch under each arm. Showering was
especially challenging. I had minimal
arm movement; therefore, I had to have assistance. Trust me when I say that romance and intimacy
are not emotions you think about when you have a partner in the shower with you
under these circumstances. It was an
awkward and frustrating experience that was, fortunately, short-lived.
About a week after the surgery, Dr. Klimberg called me with
the pathology report. My heart raced as she began sharing the results. She explained there were a number of
“hot” spots found in the right breast tissue that were only weeks, if
not days, away from turning into full blown cancer. That was the bad news. The good news was that the sentinel
node dye test conducted during the surgery indicated the cancer had not spread to the lymph
nodes or other parts of the body. Praise the Lord. And, the left breast showed no signs of
cancer, whatsoever.
Before we concluded our phone conversation, Dr. Klimberg
said she and the director of the genetics department at UAMS had conferred and
they both agreed that I needed a genetics work up because the pathology report
confirmed the dreaded triple negative diagnosis. Since the type of cancer I had was aggressive
with no known drug available to deter a reoccurrence, it's important
to find out how my cancer diagnosis might affect my family members. According to Dr. Klimberg, the type of cancer I had
could mean my brothers and nephews might be at risk for prostate and colon
cancer, while my great nieces could inherit the gene that caused my breast cancer. The genetic work
up would serve as a cautionary road map for my family to review and share with
their own doctors.
It should be noted that only 15% of women diagnosed with
cancer are triple negative. The majority of women with cancer are in the
hormone receptive category. These women are prescribed drugs, such as
Tamoxifen, to be taken for years after chemotherapy and/or surgery as a means
to disrupt another episode of cancer.
Ten days after my surgery, I returned to UAMS for a
follow-up visit to have the drain tubes removed. Since Dr. Klimberg was in Florida attending a breast cancer conference,
her resident, Dr. Tummel, had the chore of cutting the stitches holding the
tubes in place. The left tube had dislodged from its original internal
placement during the surgery and hurt like the dickens when he pulled it
out. Fortunately, there was no problem
removing the right tube. I suddenly felt
as free as a bird without the drain tubes and plastic receptacles attached to
my side. I was almost giddy with
excitement to move my arms – ever so slightly - without restrictions. Dr.
Tummel carefully examined the surgical incisions and said everything looked
good, including my very swollen and dark nipples that Dr. Klimberg surgically
re-positioned in anticipation of the forthcoming reconstruction procedure. Don had mentioned to me that he was concerned
the right nipple “may not make it” because it appeared to have restricted blood
flow. After everything I had been
through, there was no way I was going to tolerate even the thought that my nipple
was going to reject being moved and stitched into its new location. Dr. Tummel was more positive and thought it
might take longer to heal but the nipple would survive.
Another appointment was made for me to see Dr. Klimberg the following
week.
That night, I was anxious to try sleeping on my drain-free
side, but I couldn't. There was still
too much swelling and pain when I tried to roll over. Apparently, if and when I slept, it would
have to be on my back, which ached constantly from the surgery, as well as my
inability to take the pressure off of it when in a horizontal position. It was another five days before I could roll
onto my side.
A few days later, I had an appointment to see my oncologist,
Dr. Makhoul. While I trust him
implicitly, I was rather apprehensive about seeing him. He stated during the last appointment that another
round of chemotherapy might be in order, depending on the findings of the
post-surgery pathology report.
When Dr. Makhoul entered the exam room, we greeted each
other with an affectionate “long time, no see” hand shake. He immediately logged on to the computer and
pulled up my file. He quietly read
through the pathology findings, which seemed like an eternity. Finally, he turned to face me and said he was
comfortable with the report and “at this time” did not recommend further
treatment. What a relief! He scheduled a follow-up PET scan in February
to confirm there were no hot spots in other parts of my body. But prior to the scan, he requested I have a
colonoscopy because I was still experiencing digestive issues. Dr. Makhoul mentioned the questionable spot
on the colon that was identified on the first PET scan performed months
earlier. He was an amazing doctor and I
was his patient and would do whatever he suggested.
Two weeks and two days after my surgery, I was cleared to
drive and was provided a written release from Dr. Klimberg to return to
work. My colleagues seemed surprised to
see me; after all, it had only been a couple of weeks since I had undergone
major surgery. Never the less, I was glad to see them and more than ready to get
back into a routine.
On the second day of my return to work, I was scheduled to
see Dr. Klimberg again, this time to have the stitches removed. I was anxious
to be one step closer to normalcy. When
my surgeon strolled into the exam room, we quickly began bantering with each
other, which had become a habit with us.
She was anxious to review her surgical handiwork and see how I was
healing. She poked and prodded where my
breasts used to be and took a closer look at both nipples. She was pleased with how the left one was
looking. The right nipple still gave her
reason for pause but was not so concerning that she thought it would have to be
removed. She told me to dab antibiotic
ointment on both nipples to keep them soft and free of infection. It would also help them slough off the dead
skin, which was the reason they appeared dark and “dead.”
The good doctor and I chatted up a storm as she removed the
stitches. It was a good thing that I was still numb
from the surgery and couldn't feel her digging around in the incisions in
search for stray threads. While we were talking, I asked Dr. Klimberg when she
wanted me to make an appointment to see Dr.Yuen, the plastic surgeon who would reconstruct
my breasts in a few months. She
determined that I should see him on the same day that I see her again – January
14. She wanted me to completely heal
before Dr. Yuen had a chance to scrutinize her work. Without saying so, she was still annoyed with
him for not considering doing the reconstruction while I was already on the
operating table, which is the routine for most non-diabetic patients. The longer the surgery is delayed, the more
likely there will be skin wrinkling.
Even though Dr. Klimberg performed a new technique to prevent that type
of result, she was still concerned. She
wanted Dr. Yuen “to get on with it.” I’m not sure who is looking forward to the forthcoming
appointment with Dr. Yuen more – Dr. Klimberg or me.
Ms. Coco Chanel |