Happy New Year

     Sorry we haven’t written in quite a while.  We’ve had some major changes in our lives and access to the world wide web was limited.  Our 9^th infusion therapy went without a hitch, but the side effects are building faster than we wanted to admit.  Fatigue, nausea, and all the not so pretty sides of chemo are in full force now.  The two to three days down with four to five days up have switched to five to six days down and one or two up.  Amy’s spirits are good, but the pain just seems so much for her tired body to bear. 

     We do appreciate the calls and emails asking where we’ve been and how she’s doing.  So thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement.  Here’s my thought for the day and Happy New Year.  

Psalm 30:5 Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

Christmas Eve, Eve

     Working our way through the beltway never seemed cathartic; the anxiety of going to treatment is not a soothing one, but traveling with less than two hours of sleep just seemed off even by our crazy standards.  This was my last night shift before the holidays and Amy also stayed up most of the night, unable to get any restful sleep with the constant thought of more chemo looming in her head.  The cold and rain only adding to this mornings dilemma.  We arrived safely at the Mays center, once again, only to be told we were at the wrong building.  This place is religious about taking their holidays off.  We took the u-turn of shame out of the parking lot and traveled a couple blocks back to the older center, the one we affectionately call "Big Brother." 
     We were informed that they were only running one hour behind...I will never miss this place.  After being called back, we lucked out and scored a choice room. One next to the restroom, next to the nurses station, big enough to have a regular size bed and recliner, and our nurse was in a great mood.  Our standards on what's a great day have changed drastically over that last couple of months.  By cancer standards, we're on track to a great day. 


Amy - 8th round chemo

      My pink warrior's strategy for her 8th round was to come in completely tore down and try to pass out.  I was already prepared for that plan and had acquired a blanket of my own.  So with the pre-meds started, I turned off all of the lights and she pulled the sheet over her eyes.  If I could have been granted a Christmas wish, sans no cancer, finding a cure for cancer, or winning the lotto, it would have been to get through this treatment without any pain.  My wife went into a deep sleep and only moved once or twice.  The nurse came in on schedule and would start and stop the meds with the port already connected and lined up.  Amy never heard her come and go, so when the alarm was sounding, she thought it was for the pre-meds completion.  She wasn't sure if she was still foggy from sleeping or if she really was done when I told her that is was after noon and we were finished.  She had slept throught the entire treatment and was ready leave.  Finally, something went our way.
     My baby was up, finished, and ready to eat.  While we were talking about being too tired to make it back to our part of town without stopping somewhere our nurse informed us that we were close to the Rice Village.  When our oldest son was very young, we used to go Main Street Theater and see the kid shows, shop, and eat great Italian food.  Parking is limited, but there's definitely no shortage of great Italian restaurants in this area.  On the corner of Times Blvd is the little place called Gugliani's Italian Cafe.  Their motto on the back of their shirts reads, "Don't eat until your full, eat until you're tired."  This is our kind of place!

     So with the chemo deeds done and our bellies full of Italian goodness, we journeyed home.  Our plan was to hug the kiddies before they took off into the neighborhood and we retreated into our regimen of recovery.  Tomorrow will be Christmas Eve and the spirit of Santa will hopefully fill our childrens hearts to content and maybe, just maybe, give my little Angel a moment where she can forget all about this not so wonderful place called Cancerland.    

What Cancer Cannot Do

     As Amy finishes her 7th round of chemo, we knew I wouldn't be able to be with her for all her treatments and still maintain my work schedule.  Knowing this upfront doesn't make it any easier.  The cell coverage is lousy inside the clinic rooms, as you'd expect, but every once in a while we're able to get a text through or a phone call will slip in.  I was pleasantly surprised when the call at work came through and I heard my baby's voice on the other end.

Ashton & Anthony on Lil' Blue

     Half in tears and half in laughter, she updated me on her progress, how she was feeling (legs aching, stomach cramping, anxious to get it all over), and also the condition of her mother who took my place today.  I could hear my sweet mother-in-law snoring in the background.  I suppose the thought of being in a quiet room with only a bed and chair was too much an opportunity to pass up...She has a lot on her plate and I pray I'm never sharing a bed with one of my children trudging down the same path.  Still, the sound of her "sawing logs" in the background was too funny to ignore.

Family time on the bay

Destin Beach, Florida

So we talked about what we normally talk about; anything not having to do with why we're here.  Trying to focus on better days isn't easy when you're not having a particularly good one.  I have yet to see anyone smile on the way in or out of this place.  Any yet, everyone seems to be friendly and kind.  All unwilling members into a club that welcomes folks from every walk of life...lucky us, huh?  We talk about happier times; enjoying the days in the sun, our only care is where to have our next meal and what time the next tour might be.  We remember our walks on the beach and wonder if the people who live here still appreciate the beauty of this place?  Crystal clear beaches and blue green waters.  All these beautiful places we can remember like we were there yesterday, trying hard to remember like it was just yesterday, as the blood pressure machine kicks on and drowns out her soft voice on the phone.  We're instantly pulled back into Cancerland and the seventeen more rounds we still have to endure - trying to count this one as done, even though it seems to take longer and longer on each visit.

     I try hard to keep reminding her that this time next year it will be over.  At least this portion of the treatment and we should be enjoying recovery with some hormone treatment and follow ups...ok, so it will never be completely over, but this too shall pass.  And we can manage this, we can survive this.  There is so much cancer really cannot do, and those things are truly worth fighting for.  I hate that my wife has to go through this; but if this is the cost of admission, we'll take two please.

What Cancer Cannot Do

Submitted by: constancelynn from scrapbook.com

Author: Unknown

Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.

Caregiver

     With the treatments building up, the side effects are increasing as well.  Amy is noticeably more tired and is spending more time down than up.  She hasn't lost her spunk and can still manage quite well.  I don't see her entering any 5k runs in the near future, but we weren't exactly following the Army's "Fit to Fight" work out plan when we started this treatment. 
     Heading into our 6th treatment, we enlisted the help of our first born to guide Amy through yet another eventful trip through Cancerland.  Our oldest is 15 yrs old and was blessed with his mommas eyes. 


Mother and Son

 A light shade of blue that show a hint of green with the color change of a dark green shirt.  Amy's eyes are hazel, but can darken green or blue with a clothing change as well.  For me and our younger son, it's plain vanilla brown.  Of course, neither of our boys have the nice blood shot red in the whites that I've been sporting as of late.  That keeps me in the running for joining the cast of Twilight or True Blood, assuming they've lifted the age and weight requirement...I can dream.
     The tasks of keeping up with chemo are plenty and, thankfully, our boys have done a respectable job of picking up the slack that we've incurred with the side effects of treatment.  With so much stress and pain caused with this illness, it would be a shame to overlook the blessings we do have.  Two boys that are quickly developing into young men are definitely top of our list.  Our little one is finding his way with his Boy Scout troop and young enough where hanging on his mom is still cool.  And Anthony is filling in my shoes and learning about a different role that most kids seldom see; the role of Caregiver. 
     The role of Caregiver in cancer is a complicated task.  Involving communication, knowledge, trust, and maturity - things teenagers are still learning and developing.  In treatment you rely on your Caregiver to make some decisions for you while you focus on the chemo.  Fluids, blood pressure, and allergic reactions to the meds are some of the things the nurse checks on; but you, the Caregiver, spend most of your time managing and watching.  A very grown up task for such a young heart.


      My sweet pink soldier was in very capable hands.  Anthony performed his duties with ease.  Reading to his mom from his World Geography book.  Just the comfort of him being there was a measurable impact that made the difference with her session.  I can't be at every single treatment with my shift-working schedule and knowing that my son can manage this task is a true blessing.  What will he take from this experience?  A sense of compassion and sensitivity for those dealing with the stresses of cancer, the understanding of what takes place at a cancer center, or maybe just the satisfaction of knowing that he was there when his mother needed him. 
     While a mother's love for her children may be fierce, loyal, protective, and self-sacrificing, the love those children share can be equally measured.  We are very grateful to be blessed with our boys who love their mother and will step into roles, normally not meant for them, when needed.  We are a family whose primary caregiver is hurting.  To offer love, compassion, and open arms is worthy of praise.  On this day, our oldest son displayed an unwavering resolve to support his mother and our family.  Today, he was our Caregiver.


Anthony in laughter

    

1Corinthians 13:4-8

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

Moving Right Along

Who knew Chemo could be so much fun?




       Today was our 5th round of chemo and Amy seems to be getting into the groove, if the concept of driving poison into your veins to banish a bigger threat is normal.  Her restless leg like symptoms has been getting worse so the good doc reduced one her pre-meds to see if this would lessen this side effect.  Taking the Benadryl down to 1/2 seemed to reduce the amount of time suffered but she's still shaking like Elvis in the bed...I offered to bring in a life-cycle for her to work out the kinks and now she's expecting me to produce some type of peddling mechanism to keep her busy in the beginning - note to self "go get ice chips and keep quiet."  I'll have to work on that one.
     So I did what I could to keep her laughing until she wasn't able to take her mind off of the effects of the treatment.  Then I enlisted the help of Angelina and Johnny while we caught the middle of The Tourist.  There's really no way to get around the agonizing two hours of chemo infusion. With the required break times in between, to let the pre-meds take effect, with hopes of warding off any allergic reactions to the not-so magic Taxol that kills everything it touches.
     So the good news, actually terrific, is that her tumor has shrunk!!!  That's right, the meds our doing their job and our tumor measured in at just about 1cm.  This is a 2cm reduction.  Our follow up with our Oncologist was fruitful and almost enjoyable.  Dr. Boozer really is on top of his game and has a team of disciplines lined up for us.  We're very grateful to have him as our doctor and looking forward to our day that we can say "goodbye."  I have a feeling he feels that way, too...Amy made a point to tell him that he needed to focus more on her weight gain and less on her cancer - not kidding.  Pink what?  We're looking for Dr. 90210, not Dr. Cure All.  Oh well, the behavioral sciences ward is close if he needs some help with my little darling. Maybe he'll get a discount.
     So with another one under the belt, no pun intended honey, we celebrated at Santa Barbara's Italian and nestled in for a night of HGTV.  Sans a few of the usual side effects, we're moving right along.  Good night!

When Life Hands You Lemons

     Well it's the Thanksgiving holidays and we're spending it at MD Anderson.  The Cancer Center has two buildings and the newer one is closed on holidays and weekends, so we're in unfamiliar territory today.  This building is older and well populated; all-right, that's sugar coating it.  This place is musty in comparison to the new center and it's standing room only.  After a couple of hours wait, we found our new residence for the next few hours and were on our way back into Cancerland.  Our room at the Mays Center seems like a luxury suite compared to the rooms here.  The dimensions of these rooms are about 5ft by 8ft.  Our bed looks like gurney with a corner sink shoved into the corner. 

Did I mention how small this room was?

     My little pink soldier started off with the pre-meds ok then looked like a caged lion.  A mix of anxiety with pumping the drug into her body and the side effects of the meds were a little too much.  She was so uncomfortable with her legs twitching and throbbing, she almost started running in place.  The nurse suggested we ask for a reduction in Benadryl to ease her restless leg issue since she's taking the Taxol without any bad reactions. 

     Our visits our usually much longer than we'd like but today seemed unreasonably long.  From start to finish today was almost 6 hours.  By the time we were done, Amy was almost sprinting out the door.  It didn't help that it was the first time to access her new port since the surgery and it was still very tender.  I still can't believe we have cancer -  damn. 

     We hurried home and decided to pick up subway and grab some movies, it is Friday night after all.  I dropped her off at the house and took our boys to their friends for the night.
     With my angels hair newly cut it only seeed right to start the night off with GI Jane.  We had to see Demi's signature scene where she gives herself a crew cut while she's whittling away at the Navy Seal training program.  I know, far fetched, but it was a great scene and she was in crazy shape.  After that show, it was Cameron Diaz's Bad Teacher.  I admit, I was disappointed.  It was a sleeper from the start, but I really wasn't in it for the movie.  I was spending undivided time with my wife; popcorn in one hand, wife's hand in the other.  While it may not seem like the ideal date night situation, I wouldn't have had it any other way.  We survived another ride through Cancerland and, in our eyes, we're making lemonaide.



It's a New Day

     Amy is having a pretty good day today.  The day after cutting all of her hair off and she's only rubbing her head about 5 times each hour.  She's off to find something softer to wear on her head - the wigs may look like regular hair but they obviously take some getting used to.

     So we started our day off the way normal people would who are knee deep into chemo, we went back to the Italian restaurant to make sure the fine food we ate yesterday wasn't just a fluke.  It wasn't.  We're stuffed.  I have plenty to take to work tonight and will probably throw out whatever I can't finish; after all, tomorrow is Thanksgiving!

     So what do we have to be thankful for?  Besides the fact that we have good jobs, insurance, plenty of food in the fridge, our boys are healthy (and spoiled), plenty of family and friends, I'd say we have a lot in way of blessings.  I know, we're sick.  We're looking at a year of treatment and five more of hormone therapy - so what?  There are so many things that could have taken us a long time ago and we were spared enough to still be here.  What is God's plan for us?  I know it's not to wallow in self pity and sit home waiting for the proverbial end.  We're going to praise him, every day.

     We're going to try to get up, every day, and do the best we can to get healthy.  We're going to love our family, and ourselves, and remind each other that we're not promised tomorrow, but we do have today.  My wife is hurting, but she's handling it with grace.  She may have cancer, but cancer definitely does not have her.  Amy told me about our 10 year old hugging her this morning and reassuring her that her hair would come back and not to worry about it.  She told him that it wasn't the cancer taking her hair, but the medicine to treat the tumor.  And that he is right, it will return one day and that she's fine.  Was my son so moved by his mom's current condition that he felt the need to comfort her, or was following the natural progression of a child hurting looking to comfort himself?  I am thankful for either, or both.  Thankful to have that experience; a mother and son holding each other for support.  To have our family together.  To have one more day to give thanks and to praise him.  What a great day!

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.  -   Albert Schweitzer

Hair today, gone tomorrow

New hair cut, hat, and lasagna on the way.

        Well, we knew this day would come.  For the last couple of days, Amy's hair has been thinning out.  Not bad, but definitely starting to shed a little.  We discussed the option of just cutting it off and moving on with a wig or wrap before all of her hair fell out.  With her hair being so thick, she just wasn't ready to let it go.

     This morning when I got up, I did my new ritual of rubbing my hands through her hair to comfort her and to see how much hair she's losing.  This morning yielded more than a few strands.  More than a handful.  She was already awake and staring at my face to see my expression.  I'm not a card player but I had my best poker face on this morning.  I told her I was going to get my shower and I thought she should do the same.  When she asked why I quietly said, "It's time."  She stroked her hair a couple of times to show me that it wasn't, but what she saw in her hands told her different.

     We tried a place around the corner from the house that sells wigs and wraps.  I started to walk up to the door and she was already walking backwards.  Not this one?  OK, next.

     I took off to League City where I saw a few shops online that catered to our types - cancer, chemo, hair loss, you know...The first one we went to was beautiful on the outside.  Nice and new; apparently, too new.  They were still building on the inside and wouldn't be ready for about 3 months!  We were good for about another 3 hours.  Next on the list was Becky's on E. Galveston Rd.  Thankfully, the place was empty so we could shop for wigs and let her try a few (hundred) on.  With her matted remains of a pony tail getting in the way, that was promptly removed.  Amy was ready to go ahead and cut the rest off, but we pushed forward a little more with the wig shopping. 

     After a few more puffy hair styles, she was ready for the hair to go.  So she was turned away from the mirror and the clippers did their deed.  A wig was placed back on her head and the shopping continued with her not having to see herself, not yet.  After she was unable to nail down which one she thought was her, we moved over to the head wraps and caps to take her mind off that part for a little while.  I had taken pictures and video of the whole process so she could see it later, but I wasn't prepared to show it to her right now. 

     Standing in front of the mirror with a hat on, she pulled it up and saw herself for the first time.  She was fine until she looked at me.  I didn't realize I had teared up, then she started to.  With so many days in this state, you don't really notice it any more.  She took a deep breath and continued on with her shopping.  I've seen grown men in the military not take their first crew cut so well.  She really does have a beautiful face and her hazel-green eyes glow now without the hair to distract from them.  She settled on a few hats and decided to come back with her mom in tow and try it again. 

     After we left Becky's, we headed straight back to our part of town to get a barber to clean up her cut.  An uneven hair cut is more noticeable with short hair and the wig shop was just trying to shorten it up for a wig.  Ten minutes after sitting in the barbers chair and she was GI Jane ready.  Clean and even and the prettiest wet-eyed smile you ever saw.  So we did what anyone would do after a good hair cut, we went to eat Italian!  We showed our boys the new style when we got home but I'm going to save that entry for her to tell you...

 Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you represents determinism; the way you play it is free will.  Jawaharal Nehru

With glasses to hold her hair back!



Port Surgery and 3rd round of chemo

Psalm 62:6  He only is my Rock and my Salvation; He is my Defense and my Fortress, I shall not be moved.

     We were scheduled to be in admitting at 7am, but were not scheduled for surgery until 9am.  We checked in and Amy got settled to her little room where you just sit and wait.  And wait.  And wait...

     We went through the rounds of meeting the nurses, anesthesiologist, and our doctor (yes, another one).  I didn't realize until we were sitting there that Amy had never had surgery before.  I'm so used to being in the hospital to have something repaired I just assumed that she had to be on the receiving end of atleast one of them.  I guess it was always me? 
     The port is placed just below the sternum to allow the chemo a direct route into her system and not eat up her veins in her arms.  Makes sense to me, but I'm not the one sitting on the business end of the bed this time.  A few hours later and the surgery was all done and she was groggy and trying to get out of recovery.  Amy really does not like being in the hospital.  Any part of the hospital.  Surgergy is definitely not high on her bucket list. 
     So now it's after noon and we're rushing upstairs to try to get our 3rd round of chemo over with.  At almost 2pm we're finally called back.  By 2:30pm, the Nurse is still trying to get everyone situated and get their meds started.  Lunch is over, Amy hasn't had anything to eat in 24hrs, and I'm rushing to the 2d floor to catch the cafeteria before they close.  By 5pm we're just now leaving this place.  MD = Most of the Day!
     Three rounds down, twenty-one more to go.

After surgery, Amy had to be pushed in the wheelchair per hospital procedures...that went over real well.

Meeting with the Surgeon

     Today we get to meet the team that will be doing Amy's surgery, some six months away...These folks believe in planning ahead!  So far, we have our Primary doctor at MDACC, adding a Surgeon today, and still have our Radiation doctor and our Genetics doctor on the schedule.  Not even counting all of the folks with each testing department we've already hit and all of the extra samples and labs we've turned in for clinical trials - this is a research hospital. 
     Oh, we were informed by a friend and seasoned patient that the M.D. in M.D. Anderson stands for Most of the Day!  We get it.
     So we started our surgical consult with the Surgical Assistant who gave Amy another consultation (that's proper for breast massage to observe the tumor and look for anything else suspicious).  By this point, she's had so many, she just opens up the gown and flips them puppies out.  The SA seemed impressed about our primary doctor listed on our chart and asked how we were able to get him - apparantly he's the deparmtent head, a Yale graduate, and a published doctor who also teaches in Medical School.  We wanted to tell her that we didn't ask for him or anyone and really don't want to be here.  But, we didn't.  We just smiled and said that it just happened that way. 
     After she and her observer left (yes, another Surgical Assistant, but still a student, who was tagging along) the main doctor joined us.  I have to say he reminded me of a cross between Adrian Monk and all of Mathew Broderick characters.  Once again, breast consultation (you know the drill).  He was witty and intently focused and seemed to keep a sense of humor that you really had to be sharp on or miss the punchline.  And like all of our consults here, tons of information with only a portion retained.  Amy and I will discuss what he said later and have complete different interpretations of what we heard...I know, so what's new?
     Anyway, we like him and look forward to working with him in a few months.  The sooner the better.

Amy and her Momma Shirley

John 3:16 ...And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Second round - Veterans Day

     On our second dose, we were joined by Amy's mom.  She squeezed into the twin sized be with her as she took her meds.  The room wasn't the nice and private one we had last week.  This one was in an open room with curtain dividers.  I could tell she wasn't happy with this room by the way she told me she wasn't happy with this room...the joy of chemo is the polite filter is pretty much gone and whatever is on her mind just come right out.  More so than normal.

Surfing the web and taking a little chemo

     With the knowledge that her chemo, Taxol, has a side effect of taking her hair she is dreading when that day will come.  Our nurse inadvertently gave her some false hope by saying the hair usually doesn't fall out until about the 3rd or 4th treatment.  Then her mom spoke with a patients mom in the gift shop that said they didn't experience hair loss until after the 7th treatment.  After pouring over the Survivors Network site I learned that the average for most people is 14 to 17 days.  That means that next weekend we should be looking for a hat, barber shop, wig shop, priest with holy water. 
     So after treatment Amy did what any good patient would do with a compromised immune system, she went shopping.  Stopped by the hospital in Clear Lake to visit her grandmother.  Then sauntered on home late in the afternoon where she headed straight to bed.  Surprisingly, other than being tired, she didn't have any noticeable side effects - for about 3 days.
     On the fourth day, my little pink soldier was not happy.  Odd how it works that way.  Her skin is really hot, she has burning and tingling throughout her body, muscle aches, and an irritated scalp and skin.  She pushes through it and then seems to be fairly normal again.  That is except for the tumor in her chest, poison running through her veins, and the uncontrollable crying that hasn't escaped any of us yet.  Other than that, we're great! 

To my fellow Veterans:

How important it is for us to recognize and celebrate our heroes and she-roes!  ~  Maya Angelou

And so it begins

“God loves each of us as if there were only one of us"- Augustine

     In room 66 of the Infusion Wing of the 8th floor, we started our first chemo treatment of Taxol.  Two pre-meds are administered with the Benedryl making her very drowsy.  Amy took the first treatment very well, with a degree of fatigue following.  Anxiety is keeping her from getting any useful amount of sleep, usually catching a few hours at a time.  The days following she presented with numbing and tingling in her feet and hands, with aching in her joints and knees. 
          I've found the Cancer Survivors Network with the American Cancer Society to be a big help with answering questions and providing guidance online.  Our problems don't seem so big compared to others out there dealing with more advance stage cancers and side effects and still going strong.  Though, some are doing well just to go at any pace.  I pray that doesn't become us.
     She's resolved to soaking in hot water with epson salt and treating the nausea with meds.  Our dogs have stopped getting up and down with her and now just wait at the door to see if this trip is the last.  Still not sleeping much.  Still can't believe we have cancer...

Chaos in Pink

     Sometime in September, Amy noticed a knot in the upper portion of her right breast while watching tv one evening and didn't think too much of it.  She's been fairly cystic and it's never been cause for concern; but just to be on the safe side, she scheduled a visit with her OBGYN.
     After that visit, her doctor referred her to an Oncologist to inspect the mass (this thing is already getting a title) to rule out cancer.  I came home from work and saw her looking through the list of Oncologists in our network and asked what she was looking for.  Once I was up to speed, I urged her to call Patricia Moore, Shell's patient representative for M.D. Anderson Cancer Center (MDACC).  Patricia was very helpful and assured us that the Women's Center at M.D. Anderson was one of the finest in the world and we'd be in good hands - at this point we're still thinking it's nothing more than another benign lump and this is much to do about nothing.
     Our initial consulation was with an Advance Nurse Practitioner - a Nurse, at M.D. Anderson?  We thought, "How serious could this be?"  We'd later find out that everything she thought she saw was exactly correct.  In fact, everyone we've met at MDACC appears to be the best at what they do.  After spending the entire day at MDACC; performing multiple fine needle aspiration biopsies and blood tests, Amy was confirmed to have Breast Cancer.  This was the day after her 37th birthday.
     My sister, a cancer survivor, once said, "you never want to get cancer; but if you do get it, you want to be there," referring to M.D. Anderson.  We feel lucky and blessed to live so close to this center and to have the resources to come here, but we still don't want to be here.
     Several days and tests later, Amy was staged at IIA, with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.  Treatment plan for her type of cancer consists of 24 weeks of chemo, surgery to remove the tumor, radiation, and then 5 years of hormone therapy to prevent the cancer from returning.  The tumor measured just under 3 cm and is localized.  So far, lymph nodes under arms and chest are clear, but are suspect due to irregularity of size/shape. 
     All of this and more came in the next few weeks and mostly all we heard was, it's cancer...

Pink used to be her favorite color...not so much now.

Psalm 27:1   The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?