What started as IDC (Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma) in 2011, then turned into CHF (Congestive Heart Failure) in 2013, probably partially caused by chemotherapy along with a genetic pre-disposition. Here we are now in March 2016 and I am newly diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer in the left breast and liver (LMBC - liver metastasized breast cancer).

So the focus has shifted yet again, BUT... I continue to THANK YOU for your prayers, love & support. I receive them with open & loving arms. My wish is that I will gain strength from you, will provide helpful information and strength to others & will help to strip away the fears we each experience.

I am strong. I am loved. I am healthy. I WILL SURVIVE!

Have you or your loved one had their annual mammogram? PLEASE, don't put it off. Speaking from experience, I highly recommend monthly self exam as well. And if you are now cancer free of breast cancer, do everything you can to insist that your doctors follow up with an occasional PET Scan and labs for tumor markers.

Contents may be uplifting, sad, funny, scary, downright depressing ~ THAT IS CANCER .... at it's best, at its worst.

PLEASE ~ Feel free to share this blog with anyone who is interested to learn about my journey. While I welcome their support, I hope that by sharing this experience freely to the universe I may help to support others by breaking down some of the barriers and fear associated with breast cancer and the treatment.


Monday, January 24, 2011

Rat, a tat, tat, Tat, TATTTTTT !!!!!!

That is the sound of a lovely MRI machine for my breast MRI today.

But it's over - YAHOO!

I didn't realize how nervous I was until I got in the room.  Perhaps because I've had one of these fun MRI's about 15 years ago, but on my head. The thing with an MRI is the noise and the claustrophobic feeling. This was much different though.

You remove all your clothes but undies and socks, and dress in one of those lovely hospital gowns. For once, this one was large enough to cover me. Thank goodness! Then the attendant/nurse put in my IV. You see, for this MRI, they feed a dye into you. I imagine it gives them a better image. The nurse (I forget her name already) then escorted me into the room with the MRI machine and very carefully explained everything to me. Then I got up on the table, dangled my boobs through the two holes, rested my head and chin on a comfortable area, and had my legs covered for some warmth. She explained that if at any time I was uncomfortable, to press the grey button she had put into my hand and she would stop and give me a break.

She was very nice and explained every step of the procedure, which lasted only about 20 minutes. The dye is automatically inserted from another machine at precisely the correct moment, which is very near the end of the MRI experience. It felt a bit cool when it entered, but otherwise was no problem.

Probably the most comfortable part of the process is the little mirror below your head so you are always looking through the window at the nurse, who is watching a computer monitor and telling me each time the MRI will start back up, for exactly how many minutes and/or seconds, and when I can take some deep breaths before the next session begins. So you never really notice that you have been lifted up, and the table slid back into the large round MRI contraption. She also placed ear plugs in my ears.

BUT THE NOISE. I still have a bit of a headache from it. I tried singing to my self, Do Re Me Fa So La Ti Do, and Singing in the Rain, and I Want to Hold Your Hand. But the darn thing really distracts you to where you can't even remember the words, or order of words, to a silly simple song like Do Re Me.

I'm so glad that is over now. The MRI will give the oncologist and surgeon a better idea of the size of my tumor(s), and will help us all to make the next plan of attack -- mastectomy, or lumpectomy. More on that later I'm sure -- Joy, joy!  :-)

Tomorrow I get to spend the day with Sarah, and Wednesday Mark, Alura and I are off to the Oncologist. We will know much more by then. Wish me Luck!

Hugs, Debbie... aka the cancer warrior



  1. I'm soooo thankful you are detailing your daily process here for us to share in, Auntie Deb. I am happy we can follow along, watching as you get past breast cancer! And, you will!! Love and giant hugs, Team Sherrick

  2. Hi Deb. I just love Bazooka! She is your little warrior bear who will help you fight this interloper....that is sure to already be receeding. Hang in there. I love you! xxxooo Jonnie


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