The list could easily be a lot longer, there was so much going on and I was helped and supported in so many ways.
But here are the five that I'm thinking of right now.
Perhaps I'll add another 5 later on!
- I told everyone I knew, kind of knew, just met, ran into and so on.
I sent out broadcast emails to whole branches of my family that I hadn't been in contact with for years.
You get the picture.
I blabbed to whomever would listen.
Partly because I was in shock and busting at the seams.
But also, I knew that the more people I told, the more likely I was to end up in synchronicitous conversations where someone I didn't know well gave me a useful piece of info, or a great recommendation.
That's how I found out about UCSD Moores Cancer Center, about the CA state Breast and Cervical Cancer Treatment Program (I was uninsured).
That's how I found out my Dad's cousin had breast cancer and she gave me all kinds of first-hand information about her treatment decisions.
That's also how I heard comments like "My best friend had breast cancer 26 years ago and is still going strong" which was very reassuring.
Still is. - I got a second opinion.
And it's not that my diagnosis was complex or my case was rare in any way.
But it helped me to feel more confident in the path I chose.
Also, it was the second opinion that got me to the facility where I felt like I was getting the best care possible.
That made a huge difference to me and I know it improved my outlook and my outcome. - I asked for help.
I asked my boyfriend and my Dad, who were both feeling frustrated and helpless, to be my researchers.
I found myself getting overwhelmed looking at mortality statistics and experimental treatments.
They sorted through all of the info for me and I only saw the bits that were reasonably studied (read: no wack-a-doo stuff) and really relevant to my case.
I didn't have any family living in the same city with me, so my very dear friend Kathleen went to every single appointment with me.
She took notes and asked questions.
This was invaluable and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Time and again I left appointments thinking I had taken everything in, only to go over the notes from my friend later and find that I had missed entire segments of conversation.
Needless to say, this also brought us closer together.
I will forever be grateful for her companionship on that strange road.
It was great to have someone to laugh with when my plastic surgeon gave me a demonstration about the difference between how my pre-surgery saggy boobs looked and my post reconstruction perky ones would look.
Cause goodness knows, I had to laugh about that. - I took my time.
I asked my Dr.
if there was a reasonable sense of urgency about my case or whether I could take a couple of weeks to do some research, spend some quiet time meditating, clean up my diet, etc.
She gave me a timeline range that she thought was reasonable and we scheduled my surgery accordingly.
Also, we scheduled it with the contingency, agreed between us, that I could change my mind at any point up until they wheeled me into the operating room.
Because I took that time, I was confident and ready when I finally made my choices and underwent treatment. - I started buying funky socks and wearing them whenever I felt like it.
This was sooo strange to me, but I somehow felt like, before cancer, I wasn't whimsical or cheery or outgoing enough to wear bright and colorful and attention-getting socks.
I don't know that I had ever wanted to...
but now that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer, now that I was on this journey, I was going to damn well wear some crazy socks.
I know.
My mild-mannered rebellion still makes me smile.
And yet, it also still makes me happy.
I'm wearing some gorgeous neon green and blue argyles right now.