“Uh, Sure?”

Posted on August 30, 2021Comments Off on “Uh, Sure?”

August 30th is another one of those days… I mean, let’s be real, it seems like every day in August was tough and there is literally something every month of the year that packs a brutal punch, but there are those select days that take the cake. 

I started my day at a consult with my surgeon. She was recommended to me by my radiologist and I said, “Uh sure, I guess I’ll meet with her. You’d know better than I would…” 

It was at that appointment that my surgeon, Dr. Joyce Moore (a breast cancer survivor herself) told me that I was likely Stage 3. She also told me that while I was on the operating table, they’d take my removed breasts and lymph nodes to a lab and do real-time pathology to know how many more nodes to remove. That thought was so beyond comprehension…me laying on the table, holes in my body while they wheeled off what used to be mine to some table in a lab and while everyone waited to see what to do next. 

Then, while I was at that appointment, Dr. Moore went ahead and set up a consultation with a nurse navigator at the Rocky Mountain Cancer Center the next building over. I could talk over potential oncologists with this person and make plans for what she suspected would be chemo and radiation. Then she also gave me the cards of 3 plastic surgeons that she loves working with and told me to call them and see who could see me within the next few days because getting this surgery on the calendar was going to be very difficult – the schedules of Dr. Moore, the plastic surgeon (‘cuz they have to be in the OR at the same time) and an available ER.

I left her office and we made some phone calls. One plastic surgeon, Dr. Chris Williams could fit me in that same day. So, Dr. Moore consult, Oncology consult, Dr. Williams consult…9:30am, 11:30am and 2pm.

The nurse navigator at RMCC said, “We have two breast cancer oncologists. One has a very dry sense of humor and wears boleros to work every day and the other is an all-business woman who also gives hugs. Who do you want to schedule your appointment with?” “Uh, the one who gives hugs?” “Okay, you got it. You will meet with Dr. Michele Basche about 10 days post mastectomy because by then, official pathology will be back and she can then determine your plan of attack.”

Then I went to Dr. Williams. He talked really fast. And Nurse Sue was a lot to take in. And a lot of “you’re just too young for this…” and a lot of pictures of befores and afters for a bunch of other women with cancer. A lot of, “Remember your boobs are sisters, not twins.” And more standing shirtless in front of 5 new people (with another 5 that morning). And then Dr. Williams saying, “So, we’ll be in the OR with Dr. Moore and when she takes off your very angry breast and the other innocent bystander, we’ll get in there and fix you on up with temporary tissue expanders. We’ll use cadaver muscle to help build a pocket for them to sit in and then every week you’ll come in for fluid fill ups so that we can prepare your new pockets for reconstruction next year. Of course, you can opt for no reconstruction, but you’ll need to know that pretty soon so we know if we need to be in the OR…our schedules are very full.”

Next year? Cadaver what? Fluid fill-ups? Oncology? Chemo? Cadaver what? Chemo? Radiation? Stage 3? Innocent bystander? Pockets? Oncologist? Boleros or hugs? Chemo? Pathology? My boobs will be laying next to me on a table? Mastectomy? Available ERs? Reconstruction? Next year? Sisters not twins? What?

On our way out of Dr. William’s office, Chris and I had picked Dr. Moore, Dr. Basche and Dr. Williams just hoping we were making the right choices and having no clue what we were doing. We were trusting these humans with my life and trusting that God had put them there on purpose. We stopped by the schedulers office and she said, “I take it from here. I’ll call Dr. Moore’s office and the OR and see what we can pull together. The stars will have to align and a lot of magic will need to happen, but I’ll see what I can do.” “Uh, okay. Thank you.”

On our way home my phone rang. “Hello, is this Amber?” “Yes.” “Well, the stars aligned. Both surgeons AND an OR have an opening on September 8th. Does that work for you?” “Uh, yes. Thank you.”

I laid my head down on my pillow that night more tired than I’d ever experienced in my entire life. A lot of new words crashed into me that day, a lot of decisions had to be made. So much urgency. So much crisis. So much Nurse Sue. So much fast talking. So much, “Uh, sure’s?” And a bilateral mastectomy scheduled for September 8. ……And then we had to *get* to September 8thwithout any hitches, with healthy surgeons and a strong enough cancer patient. Dear God, I was officially a cancer patient. 

I sit here tonight and I marvel at that day. I marvel at the strength it took to put one foot in front of the other. I marvel at the strength of Chris to be with me putting his own one foot in front of the other. I marvel at all that unraveled from that day on. I’d already been through so much and it was just beginning. I marvel at where we are now. I’m sick to my stomach as the trauma is vast and in the very present nausea and the very present suffering, I remain grateful. Both+And.


This Day in 2018:

Even in the Dark

Breakfast with a new friend. Love her. She’s battling, too. And we can finish each other’s sentences. Because we know. We know.

Then work for a bit. I love my people. Moved slow but it was good to get back. Finding a rhythm in the midst of cancer is so hard.

Then an appointment with my orthopedic surgeon. My physical therapist told me it was time for an evaluation of my shoulder because of the extreme pain I’m always in. Funny story about this – I had my right shoulder fixed surgically 10 years ago because of a volleyball injury. I chose a surgeon that came highly rated and she was wonderful. But then I forgot her name. And even what she looked like. Babies, degrees, jobs, moving, car accident, life, …cancer….. all happened and here I am, needing to find an orthopedic surgeon again to evaluate and discuss yet another possible surgery. Not remembering who she was, I was having to start from scratch. Then comes revision surgery #1 last Friday and the recovery nurse that I had happens to work for multiple surgeons. She works part time with Dr. Williams. She also works part time with an orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Vidal. As soon as she said her surgeon’s name, instantly Chris and I remember that SHE was my surgeon. Really? Of all the orthopedic surgeons in the state. She works for THAT one. The SAME one that did my surgery 10 years ago. Whatever God. You’re just cool. You care about the smallest of things. So then, I call to make an appointment and I’m still in their system. And the kicker, her office is on the 5th floor of the Rose Founders building….Chemo happens on the 4th floor. And radiation and acupuncture happen on the 1st. Funny how that all played out. AND Dr. Vidal totally remembered me. She was devastated for me that cancer hit my life and family. We talked. She’s amazing. And thankfully she’s seen this time and time again with breast cancer so she’s experienced. No talk of surgery yet but I’ll continue to go see her for evaluation and maybe another cortisone shot (that was a new one for me today…). Surgery still to be determined…

Then, to top off my night, I went to my freshman daughter’s varsity volleyball debut. Cate earned herself a starting spot in tonight’s game and I wanted to throw up all day. It’s hard being a momma on the sidelines! And she did amazing. Got the first kill of the game. Got the last. And many in-between. Hit a .780 kill percentage and made the most of every opportunity. Got some incredible blocks, too. The whole student section was chanting “She’s our freshman” and her entire team celebrated her successes. I’m on cloud nine. Thrilled she is surrounded by an amazing group of young ladies. Grateful for coaches that speak life into her every day and build quality people on and off the court. Relieved to get that first game under our belts. (Yes, I said “our”……)

And now I’m exhausted. And in pain. And today was a lot. 

(And it was on this day last year that I went from Dr. Moore (breast surgeon) to a consult with Dr. Basche’s team (chemo oncologist) to Hana (wig specialist) to Dr. Williams (plastic surgeon) as we processed the new and life-altering information of cancer and by the end of the day on the 30th of August, 2017, I had my bilateral mastectomy with the insertion of tissue expanders scheduled and on the books. What a day that was. What a year it has been.)

Thank you, God. For being cool. Even in the dark.


This Day in 2019:

the first day

On my first day of this new chapter, I did exactly that which I created the change to do… dedicated time to invest in relationships. So, I filled my day with lunch with a dear friend, picking up my girls from school and enjoyed rolled ice cream and coffee mother-daughter dates. And it’s only day 1 of a four-day weekend. A weekend ahead with my husband and daughters. A weekend where I intend on spending time with my mom and dad. A weekend where I want time to go as slow as possible. 

As I sit here in bed, ready for sleep, exhausted from a full day, not feeling well and in pain, I know that my time spent today was perfect and worth every minute. And days like today are most certainly repeatable. 

And that is the intention.


No post of 8/30/20