Penultimate

Tomorrow is the last post for The Big "C." The Grand Finale. The End.

In about a month, I'll re-archive the whole thing so that a newcomer can read the first post and scroll straight down to get the whole story. This won't be the end of Amy Ponce!, blogger. I have started a new one, http://www.poncefamilysuperheroes.blogspot.com/, to chronicle our new life.

Because we're done with cancer, baby. And that whole marvelous, blessed, beautiful, exciting, love-fill, joy-beggetting story had a beginning and middle. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about its end.

Preview: At one point, I screamed at Mayfield and may or may not have dropped an f-bomb on him. You'll definitely want to tune in.

Until then, many notes to offer:

I mentioned making a whole post on the reconstruction decision. But, eh, it's not worth a whole post. The point is that there are 3 options for reconstruction of "breasts."

But you're not really reconstructing breasts. You are creating appendages of flesh that are shaped and tattooed like breasts, sure. But you can't feel anything in them. So there goes a substantial portion of their function, no?

None of the 3 options were too attractive to me once I looked into them. The "cadillac" option, the one that yields the best cosmetic results, requires taking ab muscles out from one place and rolling them up into the new construction.

Um. Riiiiight. . . I just really want as much of my body to be as God made it.

Option 2 involves cutting a "flap" of skin from one part of your body and sewing it to your chest, only to later implant saline--or whatnot--into it.

I just can't wrap my mind around this one either.

Option 3 involves inserting tissue expanders in your chest. They are kind of like spring-loaded clamps that constantly push out and your body--for 6 months--constantly makes more and more tissue to accommodate them until you are stretched out enough to hold saline implants.

I talked to a woman who was at the end of her tissue-expanding period and she said she'd been in a state of grimace the whole time. On painkillers the whole time. And yet still in pain.

My tissue had to expand just a little to accommodate my port and I tell you, for the week it took to adjust, I couldn't sleep, could hardly move. . . It was a mess.

All 3 of these options require at least 3 surgeries, the last one at least 5, and none of this is considering the risk of complications through infections which are very, very common.

It's a lot to go through and right now, I feel really done going through stuff.

Bryan is part of the equation, of course. If this were something he could snap his fingers to make happen, he'd do it. We both would. But the reality is an idea he hates. He'd be supportive if I wanted to, but beyond this, he has said, "Don't do it for my sake. . ."

I think he's pretty much done going through stuff, too.

***

Physically, I'm feeling really great. I'm not taking any drugs for the pain. I have started taking Arimidex, and I will continue--daily--for 5 years. Good thing I bought that weekly pill box. . .

This is the medicine I can take instead of Tomaxifin because I am now officially menopausal and will stay this way. Studies show that Arimidex is a great deal more effective again recurrence than the other. I'm not sure how they can argue this, though. Probably the difference is not the drug, but the fact that women taking Tomaxifin probably still have estrogen coursing through their bodies whereas those of us on Arimidex do not.

Whatever the case, I'm glad to be among those who have a lower rate of recurrence.

***

The kids are doing so well. We picked them up yesterday afternoon and heard all about their fun adventures with the Burches.

I'll tell you something: They have always been precious to me. But this time when I saw them again, knowing that there will not be more babies, I wanted to press the slow-motion button on their lives. And they seemed about 7 times more precious than ever before.

How ridiculous not to have felt all of that before. But there's the truth, and this is one more thing to be thankful for--a renewed perspective of my children.

***

Related to this, Gemma, Josh and Bryan left for Florida for 10 days this morning.

New perspective notwithstanding: wooo hoooo.

***

I plan to use this time to work on and finish up my book about our time in Korea. So if I come to mind and you are wondering how to pray for the woman who has everything, pray that I would be diligent and productive and skilled in my work.

***

I had the drainage tube taken out yesterday at the post-op appointment. It hurt just a smidgeon because this one didn't have to wind all the way up to my armpit. That hole plus the various incisions on my body look great, I'm healing well.

Bryan and I then went to lunch and then to my appointment with Dr. Markus before a dose of herceptin. It was good to see Dr. Science, as always. I brought him a can of kosher macaroons for Passover, which he found very thoughtful.

I told him I had wanted to make him a kosher cake--I have a really great recipe--but then realized that I don't have a kosher kitchen nor a kosher plate to bring it to him.

He poo-pooed all that, said he doesn't keep kosher at anytime, and that his wife wanted to eat a French baguette at their seder but he thought "that might be pushing it."

All of this, he says, made him feel "even more guilty" that he'd completely forgotten about Passover until just the day before.

I've been to a seder before and I loved it. What a beautiful way to eat a meal and celebrate a year of the Lord's work in your life. And we didn't even have canned macaroons at that one!

Who knows? Maybe next year the Ponce!'s will host a seder. . .

***

I'll see you here tomorrow for the final installment. I've got to say: The ending tastes pretty sweet and not bitter at all.