Previving

I can't say that I was surprised that my results came back positive.  My sister had already received  hers and they were positive.  My chances of recieving the gene were 50/50, but I knew in my heart what I've always known; I would one day have to face hard decisions because of an inherited high risk of cancer.

Ironically, I felt relief when I received my results.  Being positive meant I could be proactive about my health.  I am a fix it and forget about it kind of person.  There was never a real doubt in my mind what I would do with the information that the test results provided.

I have 4 kids, each  who have busy schedules and need me to be present.  While a cancer diagnosis doesn't necessarily mean certain death, it does certainly complicated the logistics of family life to put it mildly.  I want to avoid putting my babies through the crisis.

I have elected to have a preventive bilateral mastectomy as well as a complete hysterectomy.  Although once thought of as a radical intervention, this is now becoming quite the norm in Brca positive women.  Once these surgeries are performed, my reproductive cancer risk will drop dramatically, and quite possibly save my life.

As with any choice, I have had to weigh the potentially severe consequences to choosing prophylactic surgery.  At 36 years old, I will be thrown into immediate menopause when my hysterectomy is completed.  I will learn to juggle new found menopausal side effects while finding the correct dose of hormone replacements which I will be on for years. Early menopause is also linked to an increase depletion of bone strength.   I will have close to 95% of my breast tissue removed in a three hour surgery.  I will awaken from surgery with several drains attached to body to help remove excess fluid.    The breasts that I was born with and fed my children from will cease to exist.  Over time, I will have reconstruction, and although I will once again have "breasts," they won't be "my breasts."  They will be synthetic and  man-made in a lab.  I will not only have to learn to adjust to the new look of my body, but also a new feel of  unfamiliar body parts.  I will do all of this while recovering from two major surgeries.  To date, I have never had surgery.

As daunting as my choice sometimes seems, I feel confident that it is the best thing for my kids and I.  I have been given a gift of knowledge from my relatives who have gone through cancer .  Because of their struggle, I have learned I am at risk, and because of my risk,  I can save myself.  I can previve.


http://www.facingourrisk.org/

Brca2... Knowledge is power.

I'm about to embark on a crazy life changing journey of sorts, and in an attempt to keep all things "positive" and proactive, I'm going to chronicle the ups and downs.   So here it is.  The good the bad and the slightly too personal for a public blog.

I grew up knowing there was a lot of breast cancer in my family.  My grandmother's mom died of the disease when she was just a little girl.  After her mother and several aunts had breast cancer, my grandmother also was diagnosed.  Thankfully, she survived the disease, but my mom was always vigilant about her own breast health and reinforced to my sister and I the importance of screenings.

Several years ago, my mother's oldest, little sister, Adele, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  For many years, she struggled through countless treatments and surgeries.  She succumbed to the disease this past summer.  When Adele was sick, Isabelle, the younger of my mother's sisters took a genetic test to screen for the so called "breast cancer" gene.  She tested positive for a dangerous mutation in a tumor suppressor gene. (Brca2- pronounced brack-a two) The variant found in her gene gave her an 87% risk of breast cancer and raised her risk of ovarian cancer to almost 50%. (Way over what the general population faces). Isabelle decided that she would have a hysterectomy when she retired, based on the result of her test.  Unfortunately, before that could happen, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  She is now the second sister in the family to suffer from this horrible disease.  My mother, had a hysterectomy several years ago for  unrelated health reasons.  She will be the only one of of the 3 sisters not to struggle with this very deadly cancer.

Given the high rate of breast and now ovarian cancers in our family blood line, and the knowledge that the dangerous mutation is present in our family, my sister and I decided to each be tested for the gene.  We both tested Brca2 positive.  We both are at a highly elevated risk of developing breast and ovarian cancers.  Knowledge is power.

The "Lost Months"

It's been a long time comin'. 
I guess it's safe to blame my absence from the blogging world on life.  Funny how life gets in the way of living sometimes. Hmm... one to ponder, I believe.
In an attempt to avoid recapping the past 6 or so months of my life, I am simply going to pretend they didn't exist.  I feel  this  to be the cleanest and most humane solution for everyone involved; for I truly love you, my dear blog readers. If in future posts I happen to reference "the lost months,"  how about we agree to wink, nod and have an understanding as to what I'm referring to.   
Although I am pretty positive I am not on the precipice of enlightenment, I am making an honest effort not to be lost.
 It has proven to to be a downer.  Onward I go, please hold all aplause.

Visceral Reaction

vis·cer·al

adj \ˈvi-sə-rəl, ˈvis-rəl\

Definition of VISCERAL

1

: felt in or as if in the internal organs of the body : deep visceral conviction>

2

: not intellectual : instinctive, unreasoning <visceral drives>

3

: dealing with crude or elemental emotions : earthy visceral novel>

4

: of, relating to, or located on or among the viscera : splanchnic <visceral organs>


I was recently told that I gave someone a visceral reaction with the words I spoke. This is not good. Even worse, perhaps, was the fact that I was eliciting this "visceral reaction" from a paid therapist. Yes, that's right, folks. In sharing my feelings to my therapist I was told what I was saying to her created a deep visceral reaction. Lord. I guess I should be more careful with what I say in therapy. Wait a second, I thought... oh never mind. Welcome to my world, where even the therapist doesn't want to hear it.
My husband and I have enjoyed the replaying of this moment over and over. (Could this have been her secret tactic all along to bring us closer together?? Hmmm) The word "visceral" has now become a buzz word to us, although I swore only a couple of months ago that it was forever ruined for me. So in the spirit of self deprecation, which we all know I love, I have decided to compile a partial list of things that create "visceral reactions" in me. I sincerely hope in doing so, I do not spread the visceral"ness" of my feelings.

1. saying "conversate" instead of converse. (ie, "We don't "conversate" much.)

2. ending sentences with prepositions. (ie, "Where's the book at?)

3. parents who ignore the visible runny noses and dirty faces of their children

4. Michael Bolton, Glorian Estefan

5. "Sweater Christians"- people who are outwardly vocal of their "love of Christ," but hate gays, people of different faiths, and anyone who has ever been in trouble. (take their Christianity off like a sweater)

6. Ann Coulter, Bill O'reilly, Glen Beck

7. being lied to

8. fruit flies

9. adult tattletales

10. passing the buck

11. ungratefulness

12. sweet potatoes and cornbread (random, huh?)

13. disrespect

14. The Nightmare Before Christmas (never saw this movie, but the commercials always really churned something up in me)

15. parents who smoke in front of their kids

16. seeing little children not in car seats

17. Nazis of any type (ie, breastfeeding nazis, liberal nazis, conservative nazis, nazi christians, etc...)

18. hate

19. people who say "It could never happen to me..." or "I would never..."

20. people intent on not forgiving

21. people who "know everything"

22. learning of seriously ill children

23. non-disabled people who park in handicap parking or in no parking zones...every single time!!

24. slow lines at Walmart

25. people who don't try

We walk by faith

If we listen, God is constantly talking to us. I never really understood that before. I used to be convinced that God speaks to us seldom so we needed to be sure to not miss it. Thankfully, though, that is not case. His guidance is persistent and perfect.

I am on the precipice of some major life changes. Being plagued by my "humanness" as my friend Steve says, has done nothing but complicate things for me. I get so caught up in the need to control and time these changes in accordance to my own time frame. My non-God mind, sometimes forgets that mine is not the perfect plan. It is during these times when my Lord whispers in my ear the message to slow down and trust in Him.

I am so thankful for His comforting guidance and the assurance that although I am flawed by my humanness, He is not, and he does not grow weary in His love for me.

Im Lacking Experience...just so you know...

Today let's go over the latest episode in the sitcom that is my life.

"Caroline Looks for a Job"


After 14 years of spitting out babies and mothering said babies, Caroline finds herself excited and ready to join the workforce. With no "work experience" other than being a preschool teacher for the past decade, she knows her work is cut out for her.

Setting:
Late at night in a darkened den. Caroline sits in front of laptop staring at her uncompleted resume.

The work experience section is glaringly small. Apparently, the "mom" experience is not as transferable as she had hoped. Surviving children's hospitalizations, emotional turmoil, and school struggles are now equated with "time not working." Uggh. Too bad she's so darned honest. Oh how she'd love to lie!

Setting:
Inside the conference room of a local non-profit. Other than the room being bitterly cold, Caroline feels confident. She knows the likelihood that this job will be able to fit her needs are nil.
She goes through with the interview out of curiosity.

The two people doing the interviewing are so extremely personable, Caroline feels as though she is talking to old friends. As they further discuss the job, it becomes evident to her that regardless of pay, the sporadic schedule would keep Caroline from being able to accept. She politely makes it known to the interviewers. Surprise of surprises! The Director of the nonprofit begins talking about "creating" a position that she would just thrive in. Instant Ego Boost. Interview ends with promise and agreement that Caroline would contact Director for further inquiry into "new" position.

Setting:
Inside a small, cluttered office of the direct supervisor of the position being applied for. Caroline is wearing a new dress and freshly painted toe nails. Confidence is still high from the week's earlier interview. This, however is the position Caroline is hanging her hopes on.

The supervisor begins to inquire as to why Caroline is interested in the job. A well spoken, thought out answer is forth coming as Caroline secretly tries to read the expression of her interviewer. After several minutes of discussion, the Director joins the meeting whereas Caroline is asked to repeat her earlier comments. Panic! Panic! Panic! Everything seems so much less sincere the second time around. The Director seems warm and familiar and Caroline begins to relax once again. As the two interviewers go over the job description, Caroline feels confident in her ability to successfully perform the duties in this ENTRY LEVEL POSITION.
Soon the Director begins addressing Caroline's lack of office experience. With rapid fire succession, Caroline is forced to answer no to questions asked about experience with specific functions inside an office environment. Deciding it would be a bad idea to scream out, "I KNOW I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE BUT THIS JOB ISN'T ROCKET SCIENCE!!!" Caroline politely tells her new "friends" that while she has no office experience, (once again) she is an intelligent college- educated woman who will be quite capable of learning the process they have developed.
A crestfallen Caroline is walked to the door by the supervisor who tells her, "If you don't hear back from us and you want to know, feel free to call the office." Translation: when you don't get THE call from us, you can call and we will be happy to let you know the job has gone to someone else. (with experience)

Caroline sighs. Heavily.

**************************************************************************************
So here I am. Not quite jobless, as I still have my position at the preschool, but also far from being able to be self sufficient which is my ultimate goal. (not to BE self sufficient, but rather having the ABILITY to be)
Consequently, I did return to the non-profit to discuss the created position but the compensation was not even close to my lowest anticipated pay. It is such a shame. I really was quite fond of the Director. He would have been a great person to work for.

So, one place was willing to create a position for me while one place had me feeling like a complete loser. This job hunting stuff is just crazy. The idea of sitting in front of someone and being essentially judged is simply exhausting. AND...I have to keep going...

The Incarnation of Who They Are: Part 4- Patrick "Patch" Bryan Hearn

From the moment we found out that Hearnlet #4 was on his way, our lives have been a wild ride. Such is life with Patch.
Even though I was only 29 years old when I got pregnant for the fourth time, I felt like an old veteran. This baby-making thing had become old hat and I was an expert. Don't you just love how God allows ourselves to be lulled into that false sense of knowledge before He REALLY teaches us something!
As with my previous two pregnancies, I bled frequently in my last that required somewhat frequent ultrasounds. It was at around the 16 week mark when the ultrasound tech cheerfully told us we were expecting a girl. I have to be honest. I was a little disappointed. I wanted Charlie to have in a brother what the girls had in each other. It just wasn't meant to be. He would be our only boy and we would welcome our third baby girl with open arms. Clara Bryan. Clara was the name of one of my Grandmother's aunts and Bryan is my brother's name.
Having already found out our baby was a girl, the normal gender identifying ultrasound at 20 weeks was to be no big deal. Tucker didn't take off work and I just went to my appointment by myself anticipating seeing a larger version of the little girl we saw a month earlier. The appointment was very routine. They measured bones and fluid and all kinds of technical stuff that was unrecognizable to the untrained eye. At one point I asked very flippantly, "So is she still a girl?" Without an ounce of emotion or surprise in her voice, the same professional who four weeks earlier told us we were having a girl, said, "No, this is a boy."

WHAT!!!??

That's right. Our daughter had grown a penis. Well, more accurately, our SON just finally showed his. One of the greatest moments in my adulthood came when I called Tucker after the appointment. I played it cool and told him everything went well and the baby looked fine. I was just dying for him to ask about the gender. I could barely breathe! Finally he said, "So, did they confirm the sex." I said "Yes." So naturally he said, "girl?" That's when I very excitedly told him we would be a family of 2 and 2!

Of course we had no name for this baby boy. Nothing seemed right. All of the names we considered with earlier pregnancies fell short in our minds. For a time we reconsidered Geoffrey, but it just didn't feel right. None of our unborn babies had ever gone so long without a name. I was beginning to get agitated. In April we were to go to the beach for Spring Break, and I told the family we were not to return to Columbus without a name for our baby.

Of course at this time, The girls were almost 10 and almost 6 so it was impossible to ignore their input. All week long we tossed around names, even buying baby name books in the beach gift shops! Finally one night, as we ate dinner at a quaint, outdoor Mediterranean cafe, our baby was named. Patrick Bryan. But there was to be strict stipulations.

Tucker has always loved the name Patrick, but I resisted out of fear that Patrick Hearn sounded so uniquely Irish, that people might suspect us of trying to be "clever." (I don't even know exactly what that means, but I was really hung up on trying not to sound like we were claiming some strong Irish heritage) Lou had had a little boy in her class named Patrick, and was extremely concerned that her baby might be called Patty or Pat. (concerned to the point of tears, people!)
A friend of mine in Charlotte had a nephew named Patrick, who they unofficially had nicknamed Patch. I was in love with it! I loved the idea of having a Patch. It felt comfortable and familiar. We would name our baby Patrick with the understanding he would go by Patch.
Patch. Patchy. Patchy-poo. Patchy-pooser. Pooser. Pooser Bear. Patch is just one of those names that really lends itself to variations. Everyone who knows him, knows him by all of his names. He of course prefers "Power Patch," his super hero alter ego.
Never could there be a name that fits my silly, crazy boy better, and never has there been someone more in love with his name than he is. Patch- It's not just a name, it's a legend!