Connie's Cancer Chronicles

After much weeping and gnashing of teeth, by both of us, we have found a time that works for us to go away. MARCH!!!! March!!!! So we've booked a week in Curacao in early March at The Avila Beach Hotel  Big shout out and thanks to Ed, who shared his expertise with us, and Debbie, who encouraged us to plan a trip. Second big shout out to Marilyn and Kara who basically said, "just do it." Ocean Front Blues at  The Avila Beach Hotel We found a good Jet Blue package, we bought trip insurance, and now we're doing research. We're good at doing research. And NOW I'm excited. How could I not be excited about a place that says, "We live and let live." Gay Curacao here we come. Here's a picture of the balcony off the room that we booked. I'm ready for a drink that looks like that!

and good in Oncotype DX tests, so let's hear it for 13 (out of 100), where 18 is the highest number you want. I'll explain, as best I can. The issue with cancer is the chance of it recurring. As Dr. Mittleman said to me yesterday, you had cancer -- the cancer is gone. Now we are treating me so that it doesn't recur. And what's the chance of it recurring? Well that's what the Oncotype DX test tells us. It's genomic test, looking at the makeup of the cancer. How likely is it to return? And, will it respond to chemotherapy (along with hormone therapy, like aromatase inhibitors) if it is likely to grow and spread? So a 13 means that 1) the likelihood of it recurring is very low, and 2) I don't need chemo. In fact, the difference in preventing the recurring between chemo and the aromatase inhibitor is so low as to make chemotherapy "not worth it." So as soon as I heal I can have radiation. And whoever thought I'd be "happy" abo...

Okay, so I used that as a title in August-who knew that Tom Petty, a man younger than me (who apparently didn't know the rules: people younger than I am aren't supposed to die!) would die ! And actually, at this point, waiting isn't the hardest part. Healing is the hardest part. Every day I feel a little bit stronger, just enough to be dangerous. I'm almost "back to normal" and I just want to resume my "normal" life. As if life can ever be normal once you've learned that you have cancer. I'm still very sore but most of the bruising of the left breast is gone; the right breast is having a harder time of it. My sister drove from PA to spend the day with Anne and me yesterday. It was a wonderful visit.  I had a chance to ask her all the questions I had about radiation. She looks good and is feeling better, so that's encouraging. We had a great lunch at 105Ten in Briarcliff Manor. (Clever name, right? A take-off on the zip code). T...

we need to get the results of the Oncotype DX test . So says Dr. Mittleman, who is a patient, caring man. He spent over an hour with us yesterday, going over my pathology report line by line. I just want to say again that I am the luckiest person alive. Okay, I have cancer. But look: I have lived to be 69 years old with basically no health issues I am receiving terrific care I have family/friends/neighbors who are supportive, helpful and loving I have faith that whatever happens I will be okay I feel the presence of God at nearly every  moment-when friends bring food (my friend Margery calls that "love on a plate"), when I get phone calls and cards, when friends come by and do things like change our sheets, and put out our garbage (you know who you are) So as I said to Dr. Mittleman, this is an "inconvenience" and it's really screwing up our vacation plans. Maybe not all cancer patients are as curious as I am but I've been doing a lot of re...

and the "meh" news is that I probably will need radiation in both breasts-we'll know more after we see Dr Mittleman , my new medical oncologist, on Friday. I just had to outdo my sister, who "only" had radiation in one breast. All kidding aside, I'm sporting not one, not two but three types of cancer: in the left breast, LCIS (lobular carcinoma in situ) and DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ). Both are considered Stage 0 but having both together suggests that something needs to be done. I'm willing to bet (any takers?) that the DCIS has been sitting there for the last 20 years--I had DCIS in that breast 20 years ago. Doctors know that not every case of DCIS becomes invasive, they just don't have a good way to tell which DCIS will become invasive. And lobular cancer can be very nasty-you don't want that to grow at all. In the right breast, I have invasive ductal carcinoma with a size of 1.8 centimeters. The cutoff is anything great than 2...

I say that proudly because: I know that I'm clean so it's not because of that (I've showered nearly every day since surgery) I know that itching means healing (at least I think I know that). Every day I'm a little stronger, a little less swollen and have a little more energy--which is making life difficult for my poor wife Anne. I keep trying to "do" things, and we each have different ideas about what I can and cannot do. We've had our moments--here are a few: First one: Red Vintage Phone Image courtesy of phaendin at FreeDigitalPhotos.ne t The phone rings, caller id says "Northwell" and I pick it up. A voice says "This is Anne Marie. I'm a nurse in the I-don't-hear-what department and I'm calling to see how Anne is doing after her surgery." I say, are you sure you mean Anne? I'm Connie Knapp and I had surgery on Friday. The poor confused nurse says, no, I'm sure. I'm looking for Anne Corey....

I'm feeling a bit better every day but boy can I sleep! After a nine-hour night, I'm ready for a two-hour nap. Thank heaven I don't need to do anything or go anywhere because basically, I can't! I'm grateful that my visitors recognize that it's not them that's putting me to sleep. As soon as I have lunch, I'll nap some more. Oh, and I finished Glass Houses by Louise Penny. On to The Late Show by Michael Connolly.