sex

What I’m looking for in a partner

A year ago this week, I met Mr. Agency. A few days later, we grabbed drinks together. A year ago this week, Best Boy spent the night at my place for the first time ever and told me:

You’ve gotten in my head.

As July turned to August, I had two minor surgeries to remove the two cancerous areas in my right breast. That same week, I began sleeping with Best Boy and snuggling with Mr. Agency. A month later, I started having sex with Mr. Agency.

As I look back on the past year, cancer has taken center stage in my life. Treatment came first, and I placed everything and everyone else on the back burner. I've tried to convey that as best as I could on this blog, but at its core, this site is about dating, sex and relationships, not cancer. Ninety percent of the time the boys in my life were welcome diversions and provided a little help when I needed both of those things.

Upon the end of radiation, I started to think about the next stage of my life and what I wanted for myself personally and professionally. I’ll talk more about what’s next for me professionally in a subsequent post, but I’ll focus on the guys in this one.

Raise your hand if you’re tired of reading about Best Boy and Mr. Agency.

You can put your hand down now.

Who's in the lead? Who cares?

See, I got to the point where I was tired of them, too. During surgery and chemotherapy, Best Boy was the one guy that I could count on completely. And, then during radiation, that changed. I'm the first to admit that our story might have had a different ending if I hadn't chosen Mr. Exec, Mr. Agency and Philly Matt over him. What if I had realized what a great, caring guy Best Boy was sooner than I did? I wonder…

At the end of the day, though, Best Boy wants to focus on his career and move overseas. I want to stay in DC and have a family. Neither path is wrong, but those paths are mutually exclusive.

Mr. Agency and I fed off of our sexual chemistry for a while, and then we would get in a fight…until we made up and had sex again…and got in a fight again. Did we reconnect again? Of course. But, our interest in and expectations from each other had changed so our interactions have been calm.

Where does that leave me a year later?

Well, I’m friends with both of them. They’re not bad guys. (In fact, Mr. Agency and I actually talk more now than when we were sleeping together.) They’re just not the right guys for me at this stage.

For the overwhelming majority of my life, I’ve chosen passion over partnership. I was the girl who loved to date self-absorbed workaholics and craved the rush of never knowing what would happen next. But, I’m not the same girl I was a year ago. And, that’s a good thing. A very good thing!

I’ve thankfully had more passion than most people will have in a lifetime. Now, I’ve realized that I’d rather have the right partner or be unattached than be in an ambiguous or predominately sexual relationship.

“How do you define the right partner, City Girl?” you might be wondering.

I’m looking for a man who:

  • Values his health and the health of his loved ones;
  • Enjoys sports, dining out, helping others and relaxing in front of the television;
  • Believes in some higher power;
  • Is emotionally secure enough to lean on me and communicate with me;
  • Inspires me;
  • Prioritizes sexual health. (There still needs to be some level of attraction and chemistry here, people);
  • Is professionally stable and not interested in moving in the near future;
  • Gets certain things without me asking him. (I'm fine with folding his laundry or putting the toilet seat down. I'm not fine with having to ask a guy to take time off of work when I'm in the hospital or to get me ginger ale or walk my dog when I'm sick); and
  • Wants to be a father within the next four years and won’t be the kind of guy who expects extra points or kudos on Facebook for staying home alone with his kid(s) or taking his child to the pediatrician.

I don’t NEED a partner, but I’m truly open for the first time in a long while to having one.

Bang and roll

At some points during my six weeks of radiation treatments, I wasn’t in a lot of pain and actually enjoyed being at the Cancer Center at Sibley Hospital. On my best days, the head radiation technician would play her latest hip-hop mix as we would catch up on the day’s events, and another technician and I would do the moonwalk or running man down the hall.

I had hoped that my last radiation treatment would have been my most celebratory day in the Cancer Center, but that wasn’t the case. I had a substitute radiation technician, and she unfortunately hadn’t been relayed some necessary information about how to treat me. I went into the treatment room with a huge smile on my face, and I left dry-heaving, crying from the pain and cursing like a sailor.

An hour later, I still felt sick, but I didn’t want to cancel dinner with my friends to celebrate the end of treatment. I sent Best Boy a text letting him know where we would be meeting in case he wanted to join us for a drink or dessert.

Best Boy: I have my class tomorrow in Richmond so I’ll let you know.

Me: Umm…as in you’ll let me know if you can make it for a drink or you’ll let me know if you can come over after?

Best Boy: I won’t be able to do drinks because I have a meeting and then I have to be at a networking event. I’ll let you know about after.

Now, I knew what networking event he was referring to, as these regular get-togethers are open to all people in the DC area on Facebook. I appreciate that Best Boy might have planned to meet colleagues at the event, but this was far from a once-in-a-lifetime networking opportunity. I decided to just be honest with him since I didn’t want there to be any confusion about my thoughts.

Me: I get that work is your priority right now, but seeing you tonight to celebrate the end of treatment is very important to me.

Best Boy: K. I’ll do my best.

I had a nice dinner with my friends at Notti Bianche and then we headed back to my apartment. My friends left at around 11pm, at which point I got ready for bed and walked my dog. At midnight, I was just getting into bed when my phone rang. It was Best Boy.

Best Boy: Are you still out?

Me: No. I’m back at my place.

Best Boy: I just finished up and was heading your way.

Me: Okay.

Best Boy: I have my class early in the morning.

Me: Yeah, I know.

Best Boy: I don’t have another suit so I need to go home before I head to Richmond.

Me: Okay.

Best Boy: So, I can’t stay long.

Me [pausing as I register what he’s saying]: So, you’re just coming over for an hour or two?

Best Boy: Yeah, since I need to be up early tomorrow.

Me: Umm…I’ll pass then. Thanks, though.

Best Boy: Huh? I’m confused.

Me: I really don’t care to just have you come over for a bang and roll. You never come over here without spending the night. Even when we were just friends and didn’t have sex, you would spend the night! I’m not about to have that change on my last night of radiation.

Best Boy: I’ve never viewed you as something casual. You know that. I wish I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow, and I tried to get out of the event as quickly as I could tonight.

I didn’t ask him about specifics since I knew the event had officially ended two hours prior.

Me: You were the one who said that Wednesday was the best night for you to get together this week. And, once you picked Wednesday, I told you why that night was important to me. If you couldn’t do it, you should’ve told me sooner. I would have asked one of my girls to stay over, but everyone left an hour ago. I had a really long day and didn’t want to spend the night by myself.

Best Boy [pausing]: I’m sorry it didn’t work out. [Pause.] What are you doing Friday?

Me: I’m in New York.

Best Boy: When are you leaving? Maybe we could get together during the daytime?

Me: 10am so that won’t work. [Pause.] I really wanted to see you tonight.

Best Boy: I did, too. That’s why I wish you would let me come over.

Me: It wouldn’t be enough. Not for a night like tonight. I’m only doing this once so this is it for me celebrating the end of radiation. Get home safely, and I’ll see you when I’m back from New York.

I had never shed more than a few tears over Best Boy. Ever. But, that night, after the day that I had, I cried for ten minutes straight.

I was so exhausted that I fell asleep almost immediately after my head touched the pillow. I didn’t give much thought to whether I would see Best Boy upon my return. I could figure that out when I was back from my trip.

Radiation boobs

Radiation therapy may be used during cancer treatment to shrink the tumor and kill the bad cells. In some cases (like mine), radiation has been shown to reduce the rate of the cancer returning or spreading.

When I went for my consultation with my radiation oncologist, I received a packet of information with guidelines. For seven weeks, I couldn't use my normal deodorant because it contains aluminum. (Thankfully, this doctor allowed me to use Tom's of Maine, but I heard that some oncologists ban even natural products.) I couldn't take any antioxident vitamins because they might interfere with the effectiveness of radiation. And, I couldn't wear normal bras because underwires and satin or microfiber might exacerbate the side effects from radiation. (Radiation can cause rashes, pain, redness and burns.) My large tatas were not meant to be smashed into a cotton sports bra for weeks on end, but I didn't have a choice.

Prior to surgery and treatment, my right breast was ever so slightly smaller than the left breast. The two cancerous areas were in the right breast so when the surgeon removed the bad cells, the right breast became even smaller. Then, I injured my right breast by having sex too soon without a bra after surgery. (In case you're wondering, that's not my fault! The doctors didn't say that would be a problem!) That caused an increase in swelling, bleeding and scar tissue.

Radiation hardens tissues so after receiving 30 radiation treatments on the one breast, my right boob looks like I got a breast lift. The right boob is all high and perky, and to paraphrase Flo Rida, my left boob is hanging low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low. That's not hot, and I want my practically perfect tits back!

The doctor also advised me to apply a homeopathic ointment, Calendula, to my right breast three times a day to decrease burns and irritation. The ointment is clear and doesn't have a strong odor, but it's not intended to be ingested.

  

“Umm…why would anyone be ingesting your anti-burn cream, City Girl?” you might be wondering.

Well, in my interactions with both Mr. Agency and Best Boy during the months of February and March, they both inevitably went for the right boob first during foreplay or sex. I didn't want to break the mood by saying:

No! You can't do that! I have anti-burn ointment on my radiated, formerly cancerous tit!

So, instead, I would shove my left tit in their face. I felt like a nursing mother! (Again, that's not sexy.) Lucky for me, the guys just wanted some titty play and were content with whichever boob was there. I continued to play the boob shoving game in the guys' faces until I was done using Calendula.

I'm happy to report that thanks to Sibley Hospital's use of prone position radiation (lying on my stomach instead of my back), I didn't get any burns or residual skin irritation. And, I no longer have to shove a boob in a guy's face. Or, rather, I'm no longer limited to only shoving one boob in his face ;).

  

Image by NatalieDee.com.

PS As I think about my partners over the years, all of them have gone for the right boob first. Has anyone else encountered or done the same thing?

Why won’t a guy do THAT?

Formspring, I haven’t forsaken you!

Question: My guy doesn’t go down. He did once for a very brief time, and I’m afraid that he doesn’t like my taste. I’m not interested in douching since it isn’t recommended by health specialists for causing Pelvic Inflammatory Disease (PID). So what can/should I do instead?

Answer: I’m sorry to read that you aren’t getting the attention you’d like in the bedroom. With that said, I don’t think this problem has anything to do with how you taste.

I doubt that anyone – guy or girl — would say that cum tastes like the sweetest delicacy around. Likewise, in all but the rarest cases, it doesn’t taste like the worst meal you’ve ever tried.

A shower before sex should ensure that everyone smells and tastes as fresh as he or she can. (You can also add pineapple in juice or solid form to your diet to help improve the taste of your cum.)

I commend you for staying away from douches, as they have been linked to PIDs, bacterial infections and other health issues. If you happen to have any abnormal discharge or a strong odor, you might want to make an appointment with your gynecologist. If you’re not sure, call your gynecologist! (And, guys, see your internist or a urologist if you have either of those symptoms!)

If you’re shower fresh and your man still doesn’t want to go down on you, what can you do?

1. Communicate with him. In your own words, you can either: a) tell him how much pleasure you receive from oral sex; b) ask him why he doesn’t do that to you or c) calmly say both of those things. Pick a time to broach the topic when you aren’t rushed, sex isn’t expected, and you can see his facial expressions. If he’s caught off guard by the question, let him know that he doesn’t have to answer you right then and there.

2. Flip it! The next time you are going down on him, get on top of him in a ‘69’ position. As you gently guide your pussy over his face before you take his cock back in your mouth, say something about how turned on you are by going down on him and how you’d love to cum together.

3. Bring in reinforcements. The reason that most women love oral sex is that the majority can’t orgasm without clitoral stimulation. (Not every guy knows this, though, so you might need to tell your man if that’s the case with you.)

If he takes his time with foreplay and using his hands, maybe introduce a small vibrating toy into the mix? If he’s not big on foreplay, have you thought of adding a vibrating cock ring or finger vibe to your bedroom routine?

4. Accept. Most guys of a certain age will at least make an effort to go down on a woman, but there are those men who categorically won’t. How important is this to you? Is the goal for you to cum or for him to go down on you to make you cum? Does your relationship – in or out of the bedroom – need to be 50/50? If you've answered in the affirmative, is that realistic?

I’ve often wondered why certain men don’t go down on women so I asked City Boy for the male perspective. He commented:

Men are visual creatures. The vagina isn’t something we fantasize about. We like what we can see, not what we can’t. Think of the most sensual parts of a woman – the breasts, hips, and butt. It’s never the vagina. We can’t easily touch that.

If a guy isn’t interested in going down, you can’t change him. If a woman doesn’t go down on a guy, it’s a lot easier to get her to change her mind. She’ll feel some sense of guilt if a guy gives her immense pleasure by going down on her. Eventually, that guilt will cause her to reciprocate. A guy won’t feel remorseful about the situation so he’s fine with it being one-sided.

So, readers, what are you thoughts? Have you encountered a man or woman who won’t go down on you? How did you handle it? Did City Boy and I miss anything?
 

Sex and…cancer?

Every 30 seconds, someone in the United States is diagnosed with cancer.

Last year, at age 37, I was one of those people.

I needed a lumpectomy to remove the two cancerous areas in my right breast, six rounds of chemotherapy and 30 sessions of radiation. I knew that treatment would be tough, but I didn’t realize just how tough it would be. I lost my signature long red locks, required 20 extra days of IVs to combat the side effects from chemotherapy, was thrown into early menopause, and gained 23 pounds from all the steroids.

As much as treatment affected me, I vowed that I wouldn’t let it stop me from participating in those activities that made me happy. I needed to maintain some sense of normalcy in my life, and continuing to prioritize my sexual health was a key part of that.

If you’re diagnosed with cancer, how can you preserve your normal sexual routine during surgery and treatment?

1. Talk to your doctor. Cancer treatment plans are customized for each individual patient. Your age at diagnosis, the stage and type of cancer, genetic predisposition, pre-existing health conditions and the likelihood of recurrence all play a role in the surgeon and oncologist’s recommendations.

Once you know the plan for your individual case, ask your doctor about any sexual restrictions. Be specific in your questions and inquire about each sexual activity that you enjoy so you know exactly what you’re allowed to do and not do, If you aren’t sure how to talk to your doctor about sex, check out my tips for initiating that conversation;

2. Assuming there’s no medical bar to you achieving orgasm, listen to your body and don’t push it. There will be some days throughout this process when you feel stronger than others. If you’re a female who uses sex toys, choose a smaller, less powerful toy like the Lelo Mia, Je Joue MiMi or Fun Factory LayaSpot. Try not to put pressure on yourself to orgasm as quickly or as often as you previously did. View this as time to relax and forget about cancer for a bit;

3. Treatment protocols can cause a myriad of side effects, including hair loss, extreme fatigue, hormonal fluctuations, weight changes, severe nausea, and burns. Surgery and reactions to treatment can negatively impact how patients view themselves.

“Anything that affects the female sexual organs will have repercussions on body image and on a woman’s sex life,” said Emily Hill, MD, a fourth year resident at the University of Chicago Medical Center, and lead author of a study on female cancer patients and sex.

As you try to process the changes to your body and psyche, give yourself permission to feel angry, sad and overwhelmed. Ask your oncologist for a list of support groups or counselors, talk to friends or former patients, become active in online communities, or journal about your experience to help you process. Strategize about what you can do to feel better about yourself.

If you’re a female who has lost her hair, decide if you feel more comfortable wearing a wig, scarf, hat or nothing at all. Do your best to embrace whatever mode you choose and remind yourself that your hair doesn’t represent your sexuality.

When I lost my hair, I made sure that I wore very dramatic eye makeup and heels. After I lost my eye lashes, I began to wear only bright red nail polish on my fingernails. What can you highlight or wear that will help you feel sexy?

4. If you’re in a relationship, it’s critical that you communicate with your partner during this time. He or she might not understand how treatment affects your body, self-image and sex life. Many male and female cancer patients complain of a decrease in sex drive. Females undergoing chemotherapy can also experience menopause-like symptoms of hot flashes, mood changes and vaginal dryness.

If you’re unable to have sex (because of pain, lack of drive, or doctor’s orders), think of how you can remain connected to your significant other. Kissing, cuddling, massages, candles or bathing together are great ways to maintain a level of intimacy with your partner during a health crisis.

When you are able to have sex, talk to your significant other about what positions are the most comfortable for you. Let your partner know that you will need to be treated with extra tender loving care in the bedroom and speak up the moment that anything hurts. Both you and your significant other will need to be patient to help you reach orgasm. If you’ve been fighting nausea, keep mints on your nightstand to make the experience easier to stomach. It’s also advisable to invest in a high-quality lubricant like Liquid Silk or Sliquid to ensure that sex isn’t painful; and

5. If you’d like to have as much sex as possible during treatment, and your doctor is okay with that, then please do so! Likewise, if you don’t feel up to having sex at all, then go with that.

Cancer and treatment will put enough of a toll on you physically and emotionally so there’s no need to add to your stress and frustration. Go easy on yourself and do whatever feels normal and natural to you. If you aren’t sure what to do, talk to your doctor, a nurse, members of a support group, and/or your partner. There are resources and reinforcements out there to help make this difficult time easier to bear – physically, emotionally and sexually.

My go-to guy

In 2011, Best Boy and I went from seeing each other twice a week to once a week. (I wasn't exactly sure why that was, but I didn't have a problem with it either.) In February, I saw him shortly before I headed off to the beach with Philly Matt and my friends.

Th events that transpired at the beach marked the end of my friendship with Philly Matt. I texted Best Boy on my ride home from Rehoboth, saying:

Any chance you’re free tonight? Long weekend. Would love one of your hugs.

Best Boy:  Heading downtown for a meeting. Will come over after. Hope you're ok.

When Best Boy arrived at my place, he was comforting. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened over the weekend. I just wanted him to hold me close, and he did that without me asking him.

Best Boy and I had sex that evening, and again in the morning. It wasn’t mind-blowing, but I was content with our sexual routine.

As we were laying in bed talking, I commented:

I just want my old life back. I’m tired of feeling so sick all the time and looking like this. What kind of cruel joke is it to get a type of cancer that causes you to gain weight?

Best Boy: You don't look like you’ve gained weight.

Me [staring at him with wide eyes]: I’ve gained 23 pounds!

Best Boy lifted up the covers and really looked at my body.

Best Boy: Where?!? I don’t see it.

I kissed him and shook my head with a smile on my face.

Me: Thighs, belly, ass. All over. [I laugh.] You flatter me, but I’ll take it!

Later, as we were both working on my couch, Best Boy asked me what had happened at the beach. I gave him a brief summary of events, and we got into an interesting discussion about the Friends’ Code.

Is it acceptable to sleep with your ex's friends or your friends' exes? Does it matter how close you are to the friend or were to the ex?

Best Boy and I fell into a similar camp in that it depended on whether we loved the ex or not. He recalled how I had tried to set him up with my friend, D, back in September.

Me: Yeah, I so tried to make that one happen for you! But, that was then. I would not be cool with that now.

Best Boy: You wouldn’t?

Me: No. I care about you too much now to be okay with that.

We talked about how the situation applied to our relationship. To this day, I don’t know if Mr. Exec is truly okay with how close Best Boy and I have gotten. But, the fact that Mr. Exec and I never loved each other or were that serious mattered – to all three of us.

When Best Boy headed off to work, I gave him a long hug and kiss goodbye.

Me: Thank you. For everything.

Best Boy was important to me, but I still didn’t feel like I knew if our relationship was going anywhere. And, if so, where?

I decided not to spend too much time overanalyzing what Best Boy and I were and where we were going. I knew that time would tell.

As a postscript:

For those of you who are interested in what I looked like bald and heavy from steroids, click here to see my interview on Let’s Talk Live.
 

I’d rather be bald!

When I went to the Infusion Room last month, the nurses all looked at me with surprise and excitement.

Nurse: Your hair is growing so fast!

Me: I know.

Manager: It looks great.

Me: Thanks! But, I’d rather be bald than have short hair.

And, I honestly would. I appreciate that an overwhelming majority of women feel differently from me on this issue, but I’m always going to be upfront about my views.

I’ve received compliments on my hair from friends and strangers. To my friends, I respond:

Thanks! I hate it, though.

Friends: You do? I think it highlights your face and looks sexy! Why don’t you like it?

Me: It’s not me. When I was bald, no one assumed that I chose that look. With short hair, people think I did. I like short hair on other people, but I don't like it on me. Never have. My long hair is part of my identity.

When strangers ask me where I get my hair cut, I reply:

Umm…this is from chemo.

They look at me with worry in their eyes, and I assure them that I wasn’t offended in the slightest by their comment.

Me: No worries! I appreciate the compliment. (Hey, I've never denied being vain.)

But, I still don’t look in the mirror or at photographs of myself and see me. It might be my mind’s way of coping with a change over which I've had no control, or it might be that I don’t consider my recuperation finished until my old long locks are back.

The goal is this:

  

Photo Credit: Guest of a Guest at Hudson Restaurant

But, I promise to stop rolling my eyes and whining when my hair reaches my shoulders. For those of you who know me, do you really see me with a modern pixie or a soccer mom bob? Really? It's going to be a rough two years between my current Sheena Easton 'do and long hair!

Since this post is all about what I’m missing, I’ll also add eyelashes and fingernails into the mix. My eyelashes had finally started growing back, but I lost half of them last week taking my mascara off. And, just this week – more than SIX months after my last round of chemotherapy, my last dead fingernail fell off. I never imagined that losing fingernails would be so painful, but it still hurts a bit to type or text.

There are many things that I will never take for granted again. Ponytails, frizz, long lashes and healthy nails are all high on that list!

Thanks for indulging me during my Cancer-versary Week! I’ll get back to dating stories, product reviews and sex advice posts tomorrow. xoxo
 

The Evil Cancer Med – Part II

In late May, I started an oral medication, tamoxifen, to block the estrogen in my body in the hopes of preventing my cancer from returning. (Research has shown that tamoxifen is as helpful as chemotherapy in that regard.)

On one full dose and four half doses over the course of five days, my body expressed much displeasure! I couldn’t concentrate much or sleep well. I was nauseous, vomiting and dizzy. I had an almost constant headache and intense hot flashes.

I had plans to attend a charity event on a Friday evening in late May, but I cancelled them because I felt so nauseous and tired. An hour later, as I was watching some guilty pleasure television, I had a dark thought. Correction, a really dark thought.

That’s not my personality so I had a confused expression on my face. (Imagine me looking at myself oddly, if that’s possible.) I decided to just keep focusing on my show. An hour later, another really dark thought entered my head.

I thankfully know myself very well. I’m not one who gets that stressed or depressed about health issues. I’ve also never questioned whether I would survive treatment or whether I wanted to survive. (Of course, I would and I do!)

I knew that tamoxifen had caused me to have these thoughts. I picked up the telephone and called one of my best friends. After talking to her for 15 minutes, I called my oncologist on his cell phone. I apologized for bothering him on a Friday evening, but acknowledged that I didn’t think this should wait until Monday. He agreed, saying:

This isn’t you. This is the medication. This side effect is a very rare one, but I know that it has happened to some of my patients over the years. Stop the tamoxifen immediately. It will take time for the drug to get out of your system. Try to be patient, and we’ll figure out another drug for you to take when I see you next.

My normal thoughts and sex drive returned within 36 hours. I started sleeping better and concentrating with greater ease within a week. But, the headaches, vomiting and intense hot flashes persisted for another three weeks.

When I saw my oncologist next, he commented that one in 20 patients has this reaction.

"5%?" I inquired, as he nodded. "That's not a very rare side effect!"

I’m not one who believes that the pharmaceutical industry is one big conspiracy or that the health care field is trying to take all our money. But, the more I read about tamoxifen, the more concerned I am about why this drug is oncologists’ first resort.

EHealthMe recently analyzed 49 FDA reports and surveyed patients about their reactions to tamoxifen. The study determined that 49 people out of 6,123 patients reported suicidal thoughts while taking the drug. That’s 8% of patients, and this is NOT listed as a possible side effect of the medication!

It worries me that patients and oncologists aren’t talking about the potential risk before starting treatment, especially given how many women are taking tamoxifen. The drug has also been linked to increasing risks of uterine and liver cancers, estrogen receptor negative breast cancer, and blood clots.

If you have breast cancer, tamoxifen might be the right choice for your treatment plan. I know several women who are taking the drug and have tolerated it well. There also are other drugs out there with similar purposes and less known side effects.

Research supports that the benefits of tamoxifen or similar estrogen blocking medications outweigh the risks. Nonetheless, I'm not exactly looking forward to starting a new medication in July.

Have you or a loved one taken tamoxifen? If so, how was the drug tolerated?

What would you do if you had an alarming reaction to a medication?

How do you deal with a medical problem that happens after typical office hours?
 

The Evil Cancer Med

If a person is diagnosed with breast cancer, a doctor runs tests on the cancer cells to determine if they are:

1. Estrogen receptor positive;
2. Progesterone receptor positive; and
3. HER2/neu positive.

What does that even mean?

Well, for the first two, do estrogen and progesterone (hormones that naturally occur in the body) cause the cancer cells to grow? Approximately 75% of breast cancer patients test positive for estrogen receptors, and 66% of patients for progesterone receptors. Hormone receptor positive cancer grows slower than cancer that isn't hormone receptor positive.

The latter category, HER2/neu, occurs when there's a gene mutation and the cancer tests positive for an excess of proteins on the cells. These proteins cause the cancer to be aggressive and fast growing. Only 20% of patients test positive for HER2/neu.

I had triple-positive breast cancer since I tested positive for the hormone and protein receptors. My aggressive strain of cancer was thankfully caught early, and I can benefit from the use of drugs that help prevent a recurrence and lower the amount of estrogen and progesterone in my body.

Once every three weeks for a year, I receive an IV of Herceptin to kill the protein receptors on my cancer cells and reduce the change of this returning. (Thanks to chemotherapy, radiation and Herceptin, my rate of a Stage 4 (metastatic) recurrence within 10 years went from a minimum of 60% to 15%!)

Compared to chemotherapy, receiving an IV of Herceptin is a breeze! The side effects are mild, and the IV takes only 30-40 minutes out of my day. Once I finish receiving Herceptin in late September, I should be done with visits to the Chemo Room!

If you meet someone who says that she has triple negative breast cancer, she has the most aggressive type of breast cancer. Aside from surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, there’s nothing yet available to help prevent the cancer from recurring. I hope and pray that research will advance in the very near future to change that.

For those of us who are hormone receptor positive, the most commonly prescribed oral medication to block estrogen in our system in the hopes of preventing a recurrence is tamoxifen.

I prefer to call the drug: The Evil Cancer Med.

Tamoxifen is taken once a day for five years. When I read about the potential side effects, I was concerned. I talked to my oncologist about the fact that tamoxifen causes a lot of the side effects (nausea, vomiting, dizziness, headaches and fevers) that I already have from my other health conditions. By early May, I was finally starting to feel more like myself, and I honestly didn’t want to be sick again.

My doctor assured me that the majority of patients tolerate tamoxifen well. Tamoxifen has been used for over 30 years, and it's as essential to preventing a recurrence as chemotherapy.

“Okay,” I thought to myself. “This is important.”

I said a prayer before I took the first dose. That evening, I started to feel nauseous and then vomited. Several hours later, I got a very bad migraine. I took my strong migraine medicine, but the pain and vomiting lasted through the morning.

I called the oncologist’s office, and they suggested that I switch to a half dose of the medication. As the week progressed, the side effects – even on a half of a dose – increased. I was still nauseous with a dull headache. I felt dizzy, I had trouble sleeping, and I would cry for no reason. It took me an entire afternoon to edit a few pages that I wrote. And, sapping my body of estrogen sent my sex drive from 100mph to 0mph. (Did I still have sex? Of course. But, I had a really hard time reaching orgasm.)

I’ve had hot flashes since early November when I started to have chemo-induced menopause. But, the tamoxifen quadrupled them.

This is City Girl.

This is City Girl having a hot flash.

Notice how my face matched the color of my hair and dress!

I wondered how my body would handle the full dose of tamoxifen – everyday for FIVE years! But, then, something happened that made my doctor stop my use of the drug immediately.

To be continued…

 

An odd first date – Part II

As my odd first date with Hampton Man continued, I felt like I was watching a fender bender. It wasn't the worst first date that I had ever been on, but it wasn’t good either. In the back of my head, I laughed to myself, thinking:

Well, at least I’ll get an interesting blog post out of this.

I let Hampton Man do most of the talking when it came to his last relationship. But, when he called his ex-girlfriend, Janine, a “whore,” I had to speak up:

I have a problem with guys using that word to describe a woman. I get that she hurt you, but that’s not cool.

Hampton Man: How else should I describe a woman who lied to me and slept with another guy behind my back?

We were already in so deep that I just kept going.

Me: So, she cheated on you and you’re hurt?

Hampton Man: Yes.

Me: Have you tried talking to her at all?

Hampton Man: She said she loved me and kept lying to me. And, we talked some more after I found out, but I don’t think I can trust her anymore. [Pause.] I told her where I was coming from, and she was fine with that. She said that she didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Me [slightly confused]: So, where were you coming from?

Hampton Man: I’m not the monogamous type.

Me [with wide and incredulous eyes]: Wait a minute. You broke up with her because she slept with someone else, and yet, YOU were sleeping with someone else?

Hampton Man: But she knew that from the beginning!

Me: And, you think that makes it right?

Hampton Man: I’m honest. I don’t actively seek out other women, but if I feel a connection with someone, I’ll act on it. All of my guy friends cheat on their girlfriends and wives behind their backs, and no one is ever the wiser. I’m not going to do it like that.

Me: Why even get into a relationship then?

Hampton Man: I like coming home to someone…going on trips…spending the holidays…all that stuff. But, I don’t want to pretend that I’m going to be 100% sexually monogamous if I might not be.

Me: Being honest doesn’t negate the fact that the monogamy piece is often essential to having a solid commitment and strong level of trust. So, why did you get so upset with Janine?

Hampton Man: Well, she said that she would never have sex with anyone else…that I was the only man she would be with…and then she slept with someone else and hid it from me.

Me: I’m not saying she should’ve lied to you, but a relationship that’s only monogamous from one party would be tough to sustain.

Hampton Man kept insisting that it was most important that he was honest. He then proceeded to list all of his relationship faults, hypothesizing about how natural selection and events from his childhood had led him to this place. He mentioned family issues, his need for independence and some analogy with the male lion. I tried not to roll my eyes too much as I commented:

At least you’re self-aware.

Hampton Man: Aren’t you glad I told you?

Me: Well, in one sense, yes. I would have considered sleeping with you down the road, but now, I’ll think a lot harder about that. It might have been nice to just have a typical first date, though.

Hampton Man: Well, it’s not to say that I wouldn’t change for the right woman.

Me [with a skeptical look]: Maybe.

The end of our drinks date involved him showing me pictures of his ex-girlfriend. I did talk for a few minutes about my relationships with Mr. Agency, Mr. Exec and Best Boy and wasn’t surprised when Hampton Man didn’t know any of them by their first names.

We ended the date discussing legal policy and how it relates to one of his practice areas. He again admitted that it was tough for him to stay motivated as a solo practitioner in Virginia, but he suggested that we talk more about this in the future. I was amenable to that. (I do miss practicing so I could discuss my former specialty ad nauseum.)

As we walked outside, he offered me a ride home, but I politely declined. Hampton Man indicated that he wanted to see me again. I said that would be nice, although I didn't know if I cared to ever go out with him again. But, as “friends” or colleagues, he was interesting to talk to so I didn’t want to close the door entirely.

I headed home, feeling exhausted. But, as it would turn out, my night was far from over.

To be continued…