beatingcowdens

Whose afraid on an MRI? Not me – practice makes perfect!

Published on August 23, 2012August 23, 2012 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

So as I was positioned to be rolled into the MRI tube today, I realized my heart wasn’t even racing. Not that I ENJOY an MRI, it’s just they have become so familiar that they no longer provoke the anxiety they used to. I have held onto Meghan‘s shoulder through countless knee MRIs, and this past year have had quite a few of my own.

Today it was an abdominal MRI. Now if you have been following the story at all you know my abdomen is missing a few things. You may or may not know that there is also the issue of a harmatoma (basically a fatty tumor) on my spleen from this PTEN harmatoma tumor syndrome. Yep, that’s the other big fancy name for Cowden’s Syndrome – or more technically it is the umbrella term that covers Cowden’s and several other syndromes.

So, why the MRI? Well among the other neat cancers that seem to come with this genetic mutation, is renal cell carcinoma. A recent study, the same one that put the lifetime breast cancer risk at 85%, placed the risk of renal cell carcinoma in Cowden’s patients at 33% Yep, quiet old kidney cancer – hiding there until it causes you a problem. So, they like to screen for it – twice a year with an abdominal MRI.

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22252256

Part of me wishes they could just do the kidney. You see I have this theory about taking the used car to the mechanic… You just sometimes find out more than you wanted to know.

I really am not in the mood to lose any more organs. I think I have reached my quota for the year. And I have to tell you, this is one hell of a way to lose a few pounds.

So, somtime tomorrow or Monday the oncologist will call me. She will tell me that the kidneys look great. She will tell me that the harmatoma on the spleen hasn’t grown, and it can stay right where it is. She will also tell me that the stones they saw on ultrasound in my gallbladder a few months ago are no problem at all. She will tell me all that because that is what I need to hear. And hopefully it will all be true.

I need it to be true. Because I will be busy. An appointment right before the MRI with a new GI set me up for the “necessary” screening endoscopy/colonoscopy on September 18th. The risk of colon cancer is a meager 9%, up only a few % points from the general population, but no point leaving any stone unturned I guess!

Some days I wait for the break. The time when we will be without doctors. Then I realize this is all so new. They are all so scared and confused they are doing all they can when they scan this, study that… Hey, it worked for me when they saved my life with the breast cancer. And, it will work to keep my girl safe as we scan her thyroid religiously.

I am tired. I would be lying if I said anything else. I am TIRED of doctors. But, as I said before… I will keep going, necause there is no choice. Plus, “Everybody has SOMETHING!” https://beatingcowdens.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=693&action=edit

At least I am not afraid of the MRI tube anymore!

The Carousel of Life

Published on August 22, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

41 Carousel of Progress[3] — How can you tell if it’s really progress?

When we were in Walt Disney World, one of the rides we went on was “The Carousel of Progress.” Now I must admit this isn’t one of my all time favorites, but it does serve to cool you on a hot August day, and provide some food for thought.

For those of you who have never been, it starts out in the early 1900s and has several scenes detailing progress through the years. Of course, with all progress, there are a few snags along the way.

The state of the art kitchen in the mid 1900s, looks nothing like the state of the art kitchen in the 21st century.

And I think the lesson to be learned by those of us cooling off in the comfortable Air conditioning, is that with every new change, we lose a bit of the old. It is often beneficial, and frequently necessary to improve, but we need to keep an eye to where we have come from so we don’t lose ourselves.

So why was this on my mind – aside from sorting out the Disney Photos? Today was a doctor day – again.

Today we took a 2.5 hour (should have been 75 minutes) road trip to Long Island to see Dr. E. People ask me all the time who he is, and why we see him. Well, the truth is, he is kind of our “think outside the box” doctor.

We first met him in 2005. Meghan was severely delayed in many areas. Her behavior was at times scary, as she was having fits of rage that were tough to manage. She was bloated, and her belly was in terrible shape. She wasn’t speaking much, and her speech and occupational therapists were starting to whisper “autism” to me.

Not feeling at all like that was where she was, we headed to see Dr. E, a DAN! (Defeat Autism Now!) practitioner. He had been a pediatrician for over 20 years and had recently made the change to treating children with biomedical interventions.

It was a scary commitment to see such a doctor. There was no insurance at all, and the initial out of pocket fees were frightening. But when we sat and spoke with him, and he told us about the ways he was going to help Meghan – he meant it.

It is 7 years later. My daughter is a far cry from that sensory sensitive, sickly, silent, little girl we brought him in 2005. We have gone through countless lab tests, various diets, vitamin and mineral supplements, prescription and non prescription medication. He has seen us through her gall bladder attacks, and has answered my texts and Emails at the most obscene hours.

Progress. At a cost.

Not just a financial cost, but an emotional one too. And now we hit a crossroads again. Progress is at a standstill in many ways. (Not in the bright, articulate, funny girl, but in other ways people don’t see.) The strep is returning to life on a regular basis. Her development is not agreeing with her hormone tests. Her belly bothers her, and she needs medicine to help her sleep.

I spoke with him at length today. He wants me to see a very intelligent nutritionist in NJ for a very specific test. It will uncover some of the “mysteries” we are missing, he says. We are past the point where we can look at her and treat her. She appears well, but there are too many things that don’t make sense.

What about the Cowden’s I ask? What about the PTEN? Isn’t that the cause?

To which he gives me the honest, “I don’t know. There isn’t enough research.”

But, he insists what he does know, is that we will gain a wealth of information from this test.

It is costly, and there is no guarantee the insurance will cover it. But, she is worth it, and we will likely set it up. The question is when?

School starts in a week and a half. I have 2 appointments tomorrow, she has 2 Monday, and another Weds. There comes a point where we have to stop running like this.

carousel ocean city NJ — The Carousel in Ocean City, NJ

When I was a little girl we vacationed in Ocean City New Jersey. I used to like the carousel, but I wasn’t as daring as my sister – who would lean over and reach out for the rings. I liked to hold on – tightly.

Some things haven’t changed.

I think about this carousel as well, moving in circles, sometimes seeming to get nowhere.

I find all these appointments all consuming, almost overwhelming.

Then I stop and think – it’s not about getting there, it’s about enjoying the ride.

Progress will come…

Whose pink shirt is that?

Published on August 21, 2012August 21, 2012 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

survivor — I guess that’s my pink shirt?

It was probably in 1998 when we attended our first Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Central Park. Mom had spent 1997 undergoing 2 separate mastectomies, and enduring chemo. Just to top it all off she began a run on 5 years of Tamoxifen.

By September of 1998 she was back to her feisty self, raring to go – so we went. We have gone almost every year since then, save for maybe 2003 when I gave birth to Meghan in August.

A few years ago a dear friend, a new survivor joined us. So one very early Sunday a year, we pile into my Mom’s car and head to Central Park. We look through the stands that are set up. We “shop” for some free goodies, and we pay for some too. Then we head back to the car and drop it all off so we are ready to walk among 25,000 or so survivors and supporters.

We push Meghan in her chair, as the 5K would be way too much for her, but she won’t do without cheering Grandma on. She makes Grandma a banner to hang on her shirt – usually a picture of the two of them. It is a morning of (exhausting) celebration.

So it was Meghan. It is always Meghan it seems, who pointed out to me about a week after my diagnosis of DCIS, that I needed a pink shirt for the race this year. When I asked her why she said, “because you had breast cancer too.”

I thought about that for a few minutes. It was early in the game so the ramifications of what I had been through had not yet fully sunken in. I guess technically she was right. I had the pathology report in my hand. It clearly said DCIS. The breast surgeon clearly called it cancer, and reminded me that a few more months would have put me in a “fight for my life.”

But I had been to those races for many years. I had looked at the resolve in the faces of the survivors. The bald heads of the women still in treatment, and I had read the signs and tributes to those who had fought and lost. I had watched my own Mom endure chemo and years of tamoxifen. Surely I couldn’t put myself in the same class with these ladies?

I suffer I guess with a bit of “survivors guilt.” Some people might chuckle at the thought that my road has been easy, but of course everything is relative, and it is all about perspective.

I did commit to a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy to reduce my imminent cancer risk. That in and of itself is a pretty big deal. Finding out I already had cancer, rocked my world. Knowing that I had already done everything possible to prevent any spread or recurrence, gave me some much needed peace of mind. Angels, especially two I love (one here on earth, and one in heaven) named Meghan, had already kept me from being hurt by Breast Cancer.

Am I a survivor? You bet your ass. No genetic mutation, not PTEN, no Cowden’s Syndrome will take me, or my girl. I am blessed with the knowledge to screen, and the benefits of early detection.

Do I deserve to be in the same ranks of these breast cancer survivors? I am not so sure.

But, I have this pretty pink shirt. And these fake boobs. Maybe that in and of itself makes it OK.

No matter what I will consider it an honor to walk among some of the strongest women I will ever know.

Beating Cowden’s heads to Facebook!

Published on August 20, 2012 by beatingcowdens5 Comments

Today I felt very brave. Today I felt like shouting. Today I wanted everyone in the world to know that people have Cowden’s Sydrome – and sometimes it is OK, and sometimes it sucks. I wanted to raise awareness, and to touch some folks who may need an ear. This is my way. This is my outlet. I can only hope it helps someone. So, I will continue to post here, but I will link all my posts to the Facebook page with the same name – “Beating Cowden’s.” Hope to see you there!

I got my “FAMILY PHOTO!”

Published on August 20, 2012August 20, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

I was photo obsessed headed into this trip. I was determined to get a family photo. So, we headed to Downtown Disney in the 98 degree heat, and did our best in the Disney Photopass studio. We had a great time. He got some great shots. Two family shots, and one of Meghan that are just fabulous.

I won’t be showing them here. Well, the one of just Meghan may slip out, but not the others, sorry. I chose one for my Christmas card. And while I was at it, I sent it to Costco to be printed. So, I can not even believe I am saying this, but I have 200 Christmas Cards in my basement August 20th. Ridiculous confession of my OCD – YIKES. Never in all my years have I done that. But, there was the picture, all ready to go, and I figured it was the best way to keep me from showing too many people.

So, you will have to wait for that one. Instead – I will show you some of the Family Photos that didn’t make the Christmas Card!

Fireworks in My Heart

Published on August 20, 2012 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

_DSC0252 — After 12 years of marriage, I still feel fireworks for my husband!

When we were vacationing at Disney World, we stopped one night to see the beautiful fireworks show at EPCOT. My husband captured a few great shots, as I sat with Meghan and watched the show in awe. It was such a wonderful, peaceful, “normal” night, and I relished every second.

I watched my husband, practicallly laying on concrete to take photos – partially because he loves photography, but also partially because he knew I was photo obsessed this trip – and I couldn’t help but think how much I adore him.

Those wild days of dating and hot romance have toned down into a sense of companionship, but there is still plenty of passion in our lives. He can give my stomach a flip with a touch, or a hug; with a quick kiss or a slow one.

I loved him soon after we met. I loved him more when we married, but I never could have imagined I’d be this in love.

He has held my hand this past year alone, as we watched Meghan be wheeled into surgery for the 9th time.

He lovingly drained my drains after the mastectomy. He held me, and reassured me. He told me I was still beautiful, and even helped me believe it.

And, when it came time for the hysterectomy I spent many nights in his arms listening to him repeatedly explain what I already knew – “You are more than the sum of your parts!”

From the start of this whole Cowden’s Syndrome mess, his ONLY concern has been keeping us safe and healthy. He is my biggest support system, my cheerleader, and my safety net.

I have been blessed in so many ways, but I truly feel this PTEN mutation, helped strengthen an already solid marriage.

He goes back to work in a few hours, and I couldn’t be more sad. My happiest times are when we are a family of three.

Bra-less in Walt Disney World!

Published on August 19, 2012August 19, 2012 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

I just returned from 9 days in sunny, HOT Florida with my family. We had our 5th annual trip to Disney to celebrate Meghan‘s birthday August 9th. I now officially have a 9 year old!

The trip was great, and I will have loads of things to share over the next few days, so bear with me. But this is the thought I had to share first.

I spent 9 days in Florida and I didn’t wear a bra – not once.

Now I was never huge. Prior to my mastectomy I was a B cup, C if I had gained a few pounds or wanted to make myself feel better. So, when I was discussing my reconstruction options for the new boobs with the plastic surgeon, she was a little surprised when I told her I wanted immediate implants instead of tissue expanders.

She told me that just isn’t the way they do things anymore. She said she wouldn’t have enough skin to maintain my existing size. So I said, “OK, go smaller.” Now she was a pretty small woman herself, but she still spoke to me for quite a long time, wanting to be sure I understood what I was saying.

I did. You see my surgery was as much about my daughter as it was about me. I knew that tissue expanders required fills. I knew that that meant more trips to the doctor. I knew that it meant an additional surgery for the implants, and I knew several people who had suffered enormous infections with them. I also knew I had to get home to my daughter and get about the business of recovering – quickly. So, if that meant I had to go down to an A cup – so be it. It supported the weight loss all the recent stress has brought.

After the surgery I wasn’t unhappy at all with the “new” girls. Once healed I got used to them, and grew more confident. So, when I went shopping for vacation I got a little daring.

All those shelf bra tops. the yoga ones, and the skinny strap camisole tops – well I had a few, and I bought a few smaller ones. Then, I tried them on with no bra. THAT was something I never dared to do before. I jumped, I bounced. I checked. Nothing moved. And, since I lost my nipples to the surgery – nothing stuck out.

Well I spent 9 days in Florida, with minimal hot flashes, helped along by my moisture wicking tops, and no bra.

Best part of all, I am sure NO one had a clue.

After all that has gone on, if I don’t find the bright side, I will crack up. So here it is, just for you – the shots of me Bra-less in Walt Disney World!

You STILL don’t LOOK sick (reblog from 5/26/12)

Published on August 15, 2012August 17, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

We are headed home tomorrow from a wonderful family vacation. I will have lots of lovely things to tell you about the fun we had and the great people we encountered. Unfortunately there are still some ignorant people… even here, who do not realize you can look perfectly healthy and still be “sick.” There were a few times… especially today when the monorail operator gave us an attitude when we asked for a ramp into the handicap accessible car (even though her chair is clearly marked as a wheelchair.) People can be so frustratingly ignorant. She notices now, and it bothers her, but she is awesome, and she tells me she hopes they never know what it’s like because no one should feel this way. So here it is one more time…

beatingcowdens

“You don’t look sick!”

If I had a dollar for every time someone directed that comment at my daughter or I, I would be retired – a wealthy woman.

We don’t “look” sick. As a matter of fact we look alike. A lot alike. It’s probably due to the fact that I, having the ‘honor’ of being the first in my family known to have the PTEN mutation that causes Cowden’s Syndrome. To look at us, you would see a vibrant mother and daughter duo – 8 and 38.

When I push her through Disney World in her modified wheel chair each summer, I get the stares that say “spoiled.” When I pushed her through the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer walk last fall so we could support my mom, a survivor, someone actually said “Why don’t you get the ten year old out of the stroller?” Actually she is 8, and she would…

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Realizations…

Published on August 14, 2012 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

I love my family. Especially when we get some time away from the nonsense of daily life and just get to enjoy each other.

Vacations are necessary. Big or small, they are critical food for the soul.

Our life isn’t easy, but I am extremely proud to be the mother of a graceful, articulate and well mannered young lady who is learning to take a lot in stride. She isn’t perfect. None of us are, and there will be growing pains as she defines who she is, but I am already proud to be her Mom, and I know that pride will continue to grow.

I have spent the last 5 days amongst thousands of people and there is not one who I would willingly trade places with. I have seen kids…oh so ill and the anguish in their parent’s eyes. I have seen whiny, bratty kids, with parents who I am glad not to know. I have seen kids who struggle, making every attempt to fit in, in a world that is overloading their senses. I am grateful for our struggles, they have made us who we are. I do not want anyone else’s.

It is nice, and necessary to spend a few days with no doctor’s appointments.

I am glad to have a Mom to watch my dogs and give them the royal treatment for me.

I miss writing every day. This bog has been therapeutic for me.

I can not stand the touch screen on my daughter’s IPad…and likely won’t write again until we are safely home.

These are my realizations for today.

Be well all!

Thought for the day…

Published on August 7, 2012August 7, 2012 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

A friend of mine posted this on her Facebook page today. She is the kind of person who every day finds something to be grateful for. I love that about her. Those are the people worth surrounding yourself with!

Today was the kind of day that could have gone either way. Three doctors appointments back to back in Manhattan. Meghan and Felix home together. I was a bit bitter about wasting a day.

But I got a spot in my favorite lot, and got in a nice walk. Then I met a new dermatologist who studied me very closely. She KNEW what Cowden’s Syndrome was! And, as she took my medical history about the breast cancer, and the hysterectomy, she said “you look awfully good for the year you’ve had!” I had to smile. She understood the rarity of Cowden’s well enough to call the resident in to look at my gums, and what I have come to learn are “classic” Cowden’s marks on my palms and feet. The resident is studying melanoma specifically, so she let her “double check” and ask me all sorts of questions. What a treat to not feel like a freak and be in a room with people trying to learn. Even more of a treat to hear that all is well, and I don’t have to come back for 6 months.

I made it to doctor number 2 – the endocrinologist with time to spare. So, she took me early. An exam, some conversation about the past few months, (through NYUs new system where all the doctors are linked,) some talk about a bone density test in the next few month, a script for blood, and an invitation to return in 6 months. Wooohoo! 2 for 2!

Early for doctor number 3, the breast surgeon, I had to endure a bit of a wait. She however, is THRILLED with my healing, and said I don’t need to see her for a year! (We will do 6 months just so I stagger her with the plastic surgeon, one every February, and one every August – but still! :-)) She asked about my new oncologist, also an NYU doctor, who had contacted her to discuss my case.

Am I starting to feel like there is a competent team of doctors out there?

So, I made exactly the same appointment, same three doctors, February 19th. How nice to come into the city once and park once, and get three done at once. Maybe… just maybe… we can start to get our lives back, little by little.

I was home by 2. Enough time to spend the rest of the day with my family. Who cares that the black car doesn’t start. We will take care of that another day…

When I saw that picture tonight I had to smile. I could have had a really crappy day – but I didn’t.

Because I decided not to!