Up At 2:00

Another night of sleeplessness. I've been waking up at 4:00 every morning for about the last three weeks. Too much stress at work, at home and the nagging anxiety about Thursday's tests jolt me awake every night.

I saw Dr. Nuesch, my radiation oncologist this morning, believing we were finally through with each other. After his examination, he said he thought we should keep an eye on the hardness that refuses to go away. It's on the side of my breast and a ridge under my left breast. Generally speaking, I try not to notice. I'll be seeing him again, but I get a break for a year.

While I was waiting, I noticed a photograph of me in my (extensive) patient files. No wonder people cried when they saw me. I looked really sick. I was really sick. Seeing it made me a little sad. I'm not sure why.

Tomorrow, off to Houston.

Annual Check Up

I'm hiding in my office today, feeling profoundly unproductive. My annual breast cancer check is coming up on Thursday. It's always nerve-wracking, even though I have every reason to believe all is well.

Not much will get done today or tomorrow. Wednesday, I'm off to Houston. Thursday is the marathon day at M.D. Anderson, beginning with blood work at 7:00 a.m. I'll see Dr. Ross at the end of that day. It's something to look forward to.

I won't be able to drive back until Friday, but then I get a non-medical day off on Monday. I just want to get the week over with.

Thank you, Leroy

Before I had breast cancer, I never had heroes. The very concept eluded me. Now I have several--Dr. Ross, Dr. Christafanilli, Dr. Kronowitz, Lance Armstrong and Leroy Sievers. Leroy Sievers died on August 15. He was 53 years old.

Leroy waged a mighty battle against the cancer that eventually took his life. Like Lance Armstrong, he was fearless in his commitment to staying alive. He endured through countless procedures and treatments. One of the last treatments involved injecting glue into his spine. He developed a post-operative infection and almost died from it.

Leroy had many friends on the Internet. He wrote about his illness every day in his blog, "My Cancer," and gave voice to so many of us who've shared the same journey.

I always think that, if cancer reoccurs as it did with Leroy, I won't be willing to go through chemo again. If that means I die, then so be it. Leroy was a stronger, braver person than I. He grabbed onto life and held on, no matter how scary the ride got.

I hope Leroy can hear all of us left behind, saying thank you for the tremendous gift of his spirit.

Thank you, Leroy. I'm going to miss you so much.