The Act of Putting on Pants

Remember when Dr Melissa confirmed that I need to stop taking my hormonal birth control pills? So I stopped as instructed, but I forgot what happens when you stop a course of BC (this was about two weeks into a pack) - you get your period. I started bleeding while on one of my cafe jaunts and initially thought I'd somehow scratched myself too severely?!

Ee bodohnya. I cottoned on later that night though. But it wasn't the end of rude surprises because apparently having the period while you're taking the pill as instructed is different from one where you jump off the pill midway. I hate that I have to say goodbye to blood-clotty periods (just need to wear period underwear!) and start embracing tampons again. (Please don't tell me to use cups and discs.)

Also, around two weeks later, my skin is now oily again. Half the reason for taking Yasmin all these years was to help my skin be better, but breast cancer said "fuck your skin" to me too, I guess.

Anyway, I checked myself into the hospital for my bone biopsy on Wednesday. It was fine, I guess. I was somewhat cheated because the admitting doctor said I'd be on sedation (i.e., practically sleeping without being on general anaesthesia) but the surgeon/operating doctor/IDK just put me on local anaesthesia, meaning I had to be awake in an awkward prone position with my arms over my head as the doc poked his needles into me.

Did you know that "prone position" means lying flat on your stomach? I'm not sure how I got the impression that it means lying on your back. That's supine position, by the way. 

So yeah, at first prone position feels great, until you need to find a comfortable way to angle your head and not move. This was a CT-assisted procedure, so we're limited by what platform can actually slide into the machine. And I guess it's not possible to provide a head cushion with a hole in the middle, like they have for massage chairs. Something for these machine designers to take note of, though.

The procedure was intended to extract samples of my right iliac bone (hip bone), which I'd assumed they would enter from the front, but as I mentioned earlier, prone position. They went from the back, i.e. my butt. I was like, okay that's cool, there's less organs in that area and my butt, being large, would hurt less, right? 

Okay I don't know about "less", but it still hurt a bunch! Starting from the jabs of LA. I flinched every time, and every time the doctor said "Sorry!" and continued. Are they really sorry eh, or is it just one of those professional platitudes they have to say?

With all the flinching, I don't know when the actual biopsy needle was poked in but I did feel each unpleasant moment the doc scraped/tapped on my bone!! Also they kept pushing me in and out of the CT machine, which would be fine except there was a smol jerk each time the sliding stopped. I didn't even know you could see all these CT scan images on the spot. But I guess that's the purpose of these types of procedures.

Anyway, once done, they pushed me to the waiting area where I watched a CNA show about scammers in Thailand while the Same Day Admission nurses took bloody ages to pick me up. Y'all are on the same floor, what's the hold-up here?

I ended up in a supposedly Class B2 ward but was really a former Class A ward with an extra bed, making it cramped for one and all. Even worse, my neighbour was a lady with an immensely ghetto friend accompanying her. Okay, I know it's borderline elitist of me to call people "ghetto". I'm really cool with low-income Malay people (Lord knows I've dated a bunch). What I hate is inconsiderate people. This friend was taking multiple video calls and watching videos on full volume. (And eating in the room. Which didn't cease even after the nurse politely confronted her.) I got to hear her book a Grab ride for her mum, direct her mum from Blk 10 to Blk 9 where the car was, hear her mum struggling over the 5-min walk, speak to the patient's husband, speak to the patient's children, speak to her own husband - the whole shebang!

Meanwhile, I was trying to have an hour's mandated bed rest without my phone or book near me (because SDA) was again taking their time. It was super irritating and you must understand why I was chanting "ghetto bitch" in my head. Interestingly, the patient didn't speak much. Not sure if that's her normal mode or she was feeling too unwell. I tried to feel more charitable towards the friend - she clearly has to work hard - she works a day job, has multiple children, cooks daily, and took in the sick woman's children, plus has to settle car rides for her mum. (Yes I learned all this from the 87,209 video calls.) But every time she blared something at top volume, aku macam nak cekik dia.

Thankfully, one of the breast care docs came in and let me be discharged the same night! Procedure was scheduled for 3pm, we started around 3.45pm, done around 4.20pm, warded at 5pm. And discharged at 7.45pm! Doc gave me 5 days of hospitalisation leave, up to Sunday.

Cutes and I took the shuttle bus to Eastpoint for dinner, then we went home where I spent most of my time lying supine until yesterday (Thursday) night where we went out for dinner and I'm at pull.in now writing this.

I miss dancing, but there's still an odd sensation of numbness/bone pain (?) in my right hip, right lower back, and right leg when I rotate that leg too much. This includes the act of putting on pants. Still hoping I can go for Chloè's last class tomorrow though! But I've cancelled tonight's ballet class. 

Friends have been lovely, sending food care packages, so now I have no excuse to cook haiz.

The next medical appointment is in two weeks, but this Monday I'm going to NCCS to find out if I have the BRCA gene mutation. Wish me luck and blessings!

 

Pre-procedure

Just before discharge!

 

Scuba diving level breath control

I didn't get to have a leisurely Cata Coffee/pull.in session this week, so I'm at Coffee Bean Intl Plaza on a Sunday. CBD is so beautiful on a Sunday, especially when the sky is sunny and blue like it is today. Also, Putra Minang!

I have a fucking bone biopsy on Wednesday, which was just scheduled for me on Thursday. It's a drag because I'll miss my last Sensual Flow class with Chloé Uchida, and we were supposed to film each other or something cool like that! I'll probably also miss the last regular Afrojazz class with Char, and all the fun dancey things that make life worth living. I kept asking the nurse, "So how long do you think I will need to skip class?" and she incredulously reminded me, "It's different from the breast biopsy. It's the bone, you know, the bone!"

So, that's fun.

The second biopsy results came back as positive for my right lymph node, and negative for the left breast. But I just found a weird lump on the left breast not three days ago! Remind me to ask the nurse or doctor about it. 

Oh ya I had an echocardiogram done on Monday - weekly hospital appointments, remember? It's done with an ultrasound machine, lights were dimmed, and I was already very sleepy that day, so I was hoping to be able to fall asleep like I did during my breast ultrasound. 

Nope nope.

The tech was madly jabbing at my heart area/left breast, HARD, and if that's not all, I had to take a deep breath and hold it for what felt like endless minutes, throughout! What a drag. Who knew you needed to have excellent, scuba diving level breath control to be comfortable in an echo test? 

Anyway, I'm terrified of the bone biopsy. Something about a lesion detected in the pelvic bone that wasn't there in earlier scans makes this test plus an MRI necessary. From what I googled, they'll be inserting the biopsy needle through the flesh into the bone. Under local anasthesia. Then there will be a lubang in the bone ke apa? Gawd. 

There's an appointment with the nurse tomorrow to go over the prep instructions and do another blood draw for more tests. 

Sometimes I ask, Why me? But it's God's will kan? Sometimes I find this is pushing me away from Allah instead of drawing me closer, though. So that's scary too. 

It's also super frustrating that my favourite coping mechanism of dancing will not be available to me, just due to the nature of this particular cobaan. But there we are. I managed to squeeze in a short pole practice this morning, so that's quite good already!

What's normal?

I haven't had a normal week since my holiday. Came back from my Mex-SF trip and dove right into weekly polyclinic and hospital appointments. My new normal is now sitting at cafes with my iced mocha and writing these. Or scrolling Reddit in hospital waiting rooms, I suppose. 

Yesterday's appointment with the chemo doc didn't bring any new news. We still need to results of the second biopsy and the hip MRI (in Aug!) before they can determine which stage the cancer is at, and what treatment to do. 

I guess this means I have a couple of weeks before the scary chemo, so I booked a Damn Kitty workshop HAHA sempat eh aku. 

My brain is so tired. I don't think I'm gonna tell people this news in person anymore; I'm just gonna direct them here instead. And if you ask questions that are already answered here, minus points for you! 

The NCCS @ CGH clinic was kinda sad and cramped, especially compared to the larger newer clinics at the Medical Building. Also the large proportion of older folk made me feel guilty about how I am a terrible daughter for not stepping up to be a caregiver to my parents. Some patients had their childen AND grandchildren accompanying them, and here I am hiding away in a coffee shop in my spare time. 

One youngish (30s) lady walked into the clinic and shortly after, into the chemo area, and that made me sad too. She came alone, like me. I almost thought of striking up a convo with her, but y'know, social anxiety. 

It's just sad when you hear about a youngish person getting cancer or any disease that usually hit the elderly. I mean, ya, it happens, but your humanity feels a stroke of pity for the young person's suffering, loss of freedom, and potential loss of life. 

There's still so much I'm grateful for. My beautiful life and friends, these cakes and coffee I have access to, Cutes, the ability to still dance, my writing. I'll cherish this forever.

What Strength Means

 "Aaahhh.. Pain beyond pain, my friends." - Voldemort

I was thinking this a lot during my second biopsy procedure yesterday. It involved taking a tissue sample from my affected armpit, inserting a clip there to track the lump, inserting another clip in the affected breast, and then moving to another room where I had to sit upright with the other breast clamped in a mammogram machine while the doctor did a vacuum biopsy for that breast.

Vacuum as in suck a bunch of crap out, ugh. I was steadfastly looking away, but I felt the blood gush down my stomach when he made the first incision. This second part was also peppered with constant X-ray imaging, so I had to hold my breath for each one, while my considerable bulk was pressed against the machine, while my sore boob was being compressed. Fun.

They put you on local anaesthesia so you are wide awake throughout and trying not to fidget while your arm is falling asleep or whatever. The extraction from my armpit also hurt like a bitch even though the doc kept adding on LA at my request. 

It was at that point, plus the vacuum biopsy part, that I wanted to yell, "Just chop off both breasts already!" Like why go through all this torture if I might end up having to do a double mastectomy in the end kan?

I also remembered the auntie that I heard wailing and crying loudly the last time I was having my mammogram done. I confess I thought she was lembek because she couldn't tahan a basic mammogram, but maybe she was also having a fucking vacuum biopsy eh? Either way, I shouldn't be comparing other patients' pain threshold to mine. They probably don't cry at MCCY ads and other people's wedding videos unlike my gembeng self, so who's to say what "strength" means?

I'm starting to feel a bit frustrated that I can't make plans to book classes or vacations because the final treatment plan still isn't out yet. I don't want to have to book then cancel a long-awaited Wesmarx workshop, just because some chemo appointment got slotted in. So I hope I get some concrete updates on Thursday.

Some people seem to think I need company, or someone to talk to. But firstly, I am physically incapable of talking (orally) about my feelings because I end up crying, and then I can't speak coherently, which is irritating for all of us. And secondly, ya I do sometimes enjoy the company or a little love, but some people's style of love just stresses me out more. Like am I supposed to reassure you or myself now? And thirdly, I enjoy my own company. I learned to do so over 20 years ago - long bus rides in secondary school turned to late night bike rides to the airport or Fort Canning to my current solo cafe caffes. 

I loooove writing, though. You can still write through dada sebak or a curtain of tears.

Sometimes I think about what kind of breasts I'll get for the reconstruction surgery. Can you choose eh? I guess I'll find out, and update here!

A girl can dream

I'm lowkey hoping this cancer thing will showcase my writing skills so well that I'll end up getting a book deal.

A girl can dream, eh?

So this past week I had three hospital appointments - a blood draw for genetic screening, a bone scan, and the consult with Dr Melissa. Diana (worked with her in my Starbucks days) was at the Delifrance on my last appointment and greeted me with "Hi Norain!" as I was queueing, which was nice. 

Dr Melissa kept checking if I had any questions for her. I forgot most of my questions except whether I need to stop taking my Yasmin. Apparently, I do because it's hormones and the cancer reacts to those particular hormones, so yup. She also said, "But you can still drink soy milk - like a cup a day, and eat tofu, etc." Which, what? Number 1, I hardly drink soy milk and number 2, why "but"? Does soy milk have hormones ke apa?

Oh.

Okay, just googled it. Soy can have estrogenic properties. The more you know. 

I'm still mostly okay. I told a few friends on Friday, then promptly started crying at the outpouring of love and support from them. Told my family on Saturday and almost cried again because I knew it was breaking my mom's heart although she tried to act cool. My in-laws were great because half of them work in a hospital or medical fields so they just asked technical questions, shared technical info, or cracked jokes. 

When my mind is too idle, sometimes I start to cry, and that's why I keep stuffing my schedule with as many classes as possible. Pilates and ballet have been really great! I'm still holding out hope I'll be able to go en pointe someday. Maybe next year?

A girl can dream.

I was wondering why cancer is so scary. Is it because it chooses its victims seemingly without discrimination? Is it because it kills? But like, heart disease, diabetes, etc can also kill what. Is it because the treatment side effects are so visibly drastic? 

Also arguably, breast cancer is the least scary of cancers because you can just chop it away while other cancers need more intricate surgery. (I think so anyway. Don't kill me Dr Melissa for misinformation.) Why am I still scared?

Well, because I don't wanna lose my boobs and my hair, I guess. And I don't wanna be lethargic and nauseous and need help from others. I believe that generally, people do not want to be dependent on others and that's partly why the elderly are generally more resistant to go for tests and scans and seek treatment. This is just evidenced by the two resistant aunties I encountered at the hospital and one ex's mum who had her leg partially amputated due to diabetes.

On the bright side, it's been nice to have "free time" in the day to go to Bedok Corner for lunch or Cata Coffee for an iced mocha and chocolate cherry cake or go for pole prac. Also, hospital toilets are so nice and clean, with bidet functions! 

I've been wanting to pack up my too-small clothes to give away, but then I wonder if I might lose weight and breasts and be able to wear them again, so I've kept them for now. My cancer nurse told me some people actually gain weight while on chemo though! Ugh please Allah no. 

Then is it I cannot buy new clothes anymore because I might lose/gain weight? Too bad, I already ordered two leotards to celebrate my return to ballet. God I'm a shopping addict.

See you next post!