Men, be glad you are a man.  Aside from having to do hair & makeup, enduring child birth, and the monthly ordeal, now I get to experience hot flashes???  Sitting at my computer, the flash of heat and sweat, I bolt to turn on the ceiling fan.   This sucks.

I consulted with Dr. Gina, my classmate, who gave me the 411 on the next steps for my breast cancer journey.  She said the treatment after my double mastectomy, to keep cancer away and from recurring, is important.  Gina educated me on how estrogen continues to interact at the cellular level.  I had two choices:  either take the ovaries OR take an estrogen blocker (hormone therapy).  I dost protest drugs!

Gina convinced me that taking the estrogen blockers (for 5 years) was not so bad; she had done it herself.  So, when I went to see the oncologist in Tampa, I was already prepped.  Results of another test (oncotype, for the biology of the cancer removed in Dec 2018) came back with “28” and Dr. A started talking chemo.

“Let me stop you there, doctor. I’m not doing chemo.  Tell me what other options we can explore.” 

Long story short:  took another blood test.  That helped her to prescribe an aromatase inhibitor, which  stops estrogen production in postmenopausal women.  Less estrogen to stimulate growth of breast cancer cells.  She sent in the prescription. I dragged my feet but did pick up the meds.

Still, though, couldn’t pop the lid to take ‘em.  There was something I had to do:  see my parents.

Since my last entry, I’ve flown to Phoenix to see my step mother.  She raised me from age 10 until I left for the Academy in 1981.  She had already known about my breast cancer.  I reassured her that I was alright, and that comforted her.  Ok Soon is moving back to Korea, so I had to tell her I loved her before she crossed the big pond.  While in PHX, I met with my USAFA sisters – always a great time with ’85 ladies.

I also flew to LAX to visit my mother, big bro Alan, sis-in-law Becky & family.  Mamma did not know about my cancer.  I had to tell her in person, not over the phone.  Mama is frail and I did not want to worry her.  As soon as she saw me, she said, “You lost weight?” 

“Yes, I’m a little thinner….”

I waited a day, after her morning meal.  With my hands on my chest and a clean sweep downward motion, I explained to Mamma that I had them both taken.  "They are both gone, see? Nothing there, flat, that's why I look thinner.  But look, do I look sick?  Do I look weak? I have color in my face, right?  I can move around fine and lift things, see?"

As people age, like my mother, they are more docile, even childlike.  She quietly shook her head in understanding, smiled sweetly, and said “OK”.  I thank God that she wasn’t distressed, panicked, or apparently overly concerned.  She was calm.  It hadn’t always been that way, though, as she has fiery Panamanian blood. 

Then afterwards, while I was dusting her room, she said, “What’s your name?” I felt a flash and a check in my spirit.  Stay composed, I told myself, be cool.

Cautiously and gently I replied, “I am Jacqueline. Your daughter. Do you know who I am?”  She said yes, but I mused.  Did she know who I was? Was that why she was so calm when I told her about my cancer?

Later, my sister-in-law told me my mom asked her, “Who is that girl cleaning my room?” 

“Oh, she has those moments.  They come and go.”

So, it begins, witnessing my mother’s memory fading.  I knew I made the right decision to see her, while she still remembers me. 

I came home from my west coast trip, grateful for the cold plane rides, which helped keep me cool.   And started taking the cancer pills.  They are teeny-tiny in comparison to my Shaklee supplements, one of which has minimized the hot flashes!  Hallelujah!

Next steps?  I’m in the gym twice a week for an hour and a half at a time.  Increasing resistance training weight.  Smaller weights and bike at home.

A week later, I put Danny on a plane to CA.  On his 74^th birthday we kicked off our Honor Walk 2019 to thank veterans and first responders.  Getting up to speed on using Facebook to let people know how to support the cause. 

I’ll be under the knife again on May 7^th for a ten-hour reconstruction surgery. 

I’m ready; I’m cool. I am at peace.  I love you, guys and gals.  Drop me a note, please?