Silent treatment

So my brain and pectoral muscles are giving each other the silent treatment. And after six months of tissue expanders, who could blame them?!

There’s just no oomph left in my pectoral muscles. But a lack of strength is only part of the problem. It turns out those muscles have been out of commission for so long that my brain has stopped sending impulses. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Do not collect anything! The muscles are trying to work, trying to engage, but just misfiring. I have a great physical therapist, though. She diagnosed the problem and is going to help reactivate those impulses.

Fortunately, it hasn’t prevented me from shooting. It just keeps me from doing everyday things like open bottles, get the laundry out of the washer, close the hatch on our car, or fasten the straps on my hunting pack. Not the end of the world, just frustrating. But I’m sure all my parts will be on speaking terms again soon…

All Clear

Surgery went well, I have no lifting restrictions, and am free to shoot again. And best of all, clear margins! I still have five years of Tamoxifen, but now I can get back to the business of life. And hunt!

Final surgery

It’s here…what we hope will be the final surgery. This one should be a breeze, simply exchanging the temporary tissue expanders for the permanent aftermarket accessories. Plus, Dr. Chan will try to make sure we finally get everything–the clear margins their looking for. Going in…

Oh deer?

I had high hopes for the January 1-15 deer season, but complications with the reconstruction process kept me sidelined again. But before my hopes were dashed, I scouted a different area. Drier and more desert-y, but more promising. Maybe next year…

Lone peak in central NM

The destination is among the crags, valleys, and arroyos surrounding the base of this peak.

Photograph of a windmill and high desert

Not much snow for this time of year, but there were still a lot of active drinkers, like this one.

Photograph of deer tracks

I found lots of tracks, sign, and evidence of browse all around.

Photograph of quail tracks

I watched a large covey of quail at the end of the road. On the way back down, I found lots of quail tracks among the drainages and along the road.

Hurry up and wait

Although physical therapy has officially ended, I’m still doing the stretches and exercises at home. Reconstruction has officially ended, too! Now we let everything settle and rest for a couple of months, and the surgeon will schedule what I hope will be the final surgery for sometime next year, during which they will also try to catch that final elusive margin.

However, even though I’ve been shooting consistently, and have been using a bowtrainer and bowfit, the reconstruction has taken too much of a toll. Chances are I’ll have to wait until after the next surgery to really make any progress in cranking up the draw weight beyond 35#. On the bright side, I’ve finally been able to shoot my hunting bow, with the new limbs cranked down to 35#. September elk season was a lost cause, but maybe January deer season is in reach.

Clear! To shoot again, that is.

The margins, however, are still not clear. We’re hoping that we can catch everything for good during the final surgery, which should be sometime early next year.

In the meantime, I’ll take what I can get. Both physical therapy and reconstruction have been underway for several weeks, and the surgeon finally gave me the go-ahead to try shooting. So I’ll start with the little recurve, now dubbed the Rehab Bow, which has a draw weight of about #25 lbs.

So, the forecast for the near future is partly cloudy but mostly happy.

Minus chemo, plus Tamoxifen

Woohoo! Oncologist says no chemo! Who am I to argue with that?

But today I start on Tamoxifen. Since my variant of cancer basically feasts on estrogen, I need a drug to shut down that buffet line. Tamoxifen doesn’t halt hormone production, but blocks the estrogen receptors in the cancer cells (and possibly other cells, too). So…down the hatch for at least the next five years.

Surgery, round 2

The day started well. I met with the reconstructive surgeon, and had two drains (out of four) removed. Half-way to being drain free! Everything looks good, and all is progressing well.

Except for that pesky margin.

Fortunately, surgery round 2 went well. I have great surgeons. The breast surgeon managed to squeeze me into her schedule with only a day’s notice, and the reconstructive surgeon even raced over after her office hours to assist with the surgery.

Bonus: No nasty anesthesia after-effects this time. I hadn’t eaten for 24 hours, so we stopped at 66 Diner for a milkshake. Just me, Roger, a medicine pump, and a couple of drain tubes. What could be more intimate and romantic?

Clear nodes but marginal margins

Good news! Lymph nodes are clear, meaning the breast cancer hasn’t started to spread. That’s some bright, sunny news. But the rest of the report is partly cloudy:

When removing cancerous tissue, surgeons like to have a surrounding margin of cancer-free tissue, or a clear margin. Although they strive to get that margin the first time around, the cancerous tissue can’t always be seen by the naked eye, and margins must be determined in the pathology report after the tissue is removed and examined microscopically.

My pathology came back with an iffy margin, so I’m off to surgery again tomorrow afternoon. After last week’s six-hour surgery, this should practically be a drive through.

Surgery

Here goes… surgery at 10:00 AM tomorrow. Surgery kicks off with the breast surgeon, who does a double simple mastectomy, meaning she removes breast tissue only, and spares the overlying skin and underlying muscle.  Then the reconstructive surgeon places tissue expanders, medicine pump, and drain tubes, and then closes everything up. I’ll be under about six to eight hours. The surgeons are both great, and we’re confident everything will be fine.

Thinking elk thoughts…elk thoughts…elk thoughts…for all of you heading out soon…