Curve Cover CURVE means a couple of things to me:   1.  Life threw me a curve ball.  From the song “Stronger Together”: “Is it any wonder that I’m looking at you ~ when life throws a curve and I can’t find the nerve to swing through…”  2. There is a certain curve of my body that tried to kill me.  And I killed it first, took it’s next door neighbor in the process and then got two new ones.  So I celebrate.   (I was just thinking how much more control I have over my body these days, and then I just realized I was eating an animal cracker while typing this.  MOST of the time, I’m REALLY good about how I treat my body.)

In order to introduce my new record, I’d like to share the story that inspired it.  My music is the expression of that story, a journey from discovery to recovery, from deconstruction to reconstruction – of both my body and my life.  It’s a long one – so grab a drink, kick up your feet and get a load of this:

I’ve gotten an annual mammogram together with an ultrasound around the Holidays every year since turning 30.  My Mom and Dad are both cancer survivors, so I’ve always been extra vigilant.  I had considered doing a prophylactic mastectomy but since my parents tested negative for the BRCA 1&2 gene mutations that you may have read about (think Angelina Jolie), insurance wouldn’t cover it.  My doctors also advised me to wait until after I had children so that I could breast feed, cautioning me against doing something so “drastic.”  My twin daughters were born May 2009.

In early 2012, my gynecologist noticed some lumpiness in my right breast.  “Yeah, I know about that – it feels like a cyst.  I can move it around and it gets bigger or smaller depending upon where I am in my cycle,” I said.  (I know …most of the guys are tuning out at this point in the story.  But please keep reading you macho dude, because men get breast cancer too!)  Dr. Margolin looked me straight in the eye and said “BUT -the lumpiness is asymmetrical.”  In an abundance of caution, I was referred to a breast specialist/ surgical oncologist (Dr. V.) for an exam and ultrasound.  Dr. V found nothing unusual in her exam but referred me for an MRI in March of 2012.  IMPORTANT TO NOTE:  If you have a first degree relative who has had breast cancer (or a strong family history), you can qualify for yearly MRI’s, alternating with yearly mammograms/ultrasounds so that you are screened every six months.  My first MRI was clear, but I was told to come back every 3 months for a check up with Dr. V.  I did as I was told.  My December 2012 mammogram/ultrasound was clear.

In 2013 I was just getting back to my music career, touring once again after having devoted my time completely to raising my daughters, Jette & Perry.  I got a horrible flu in January and was having a really hard time kicking it.  I developed a lung infection and was on various rounds of antibiotics, steroids, cough medicines, and inhalers.  I tried anything to be able to breathe, much less sing.  Being a Mom had wreaked havoc on my immune system and I would lovingly refer to my girls as Petri and Dish.

In between tour dates and toddler birthday parties, I had my MRI on June 13, 2013.  More than a week passed and I hadn’t received my results, so I called.  I was told that they needed a copy of my latest mammogram to compare with the MRI to get an accurate read.  Irritated that they didn’t take the initiative to procure these already, I ran around town picking up DVD’s and delivering them to the MRI facility so that I could finally get my results.

Another few days passed.  I remember walking through Target on June 26, 2013 with my kids, holding both of their hands when my phone rang. I noticed it was Dr. V so I pressed the cell phone between my ear and my right shoulder  so as not to lose my just turned 4 year olds in the toy section.  I’m paraphrasing here:  “Your MRI came back with some questionable results.  There is no mass, but there are some abnormalities, so they are recommending that you come back in 6 months and get another MRI.  Or if you really want peace of mind, you can biopsy.  But, since nothing is showing up on your most recent ultrasound, I’m not sure what we would biopsy.  We’d have to do a lot of poking around.  By the way, I’m moving to Texas so I’m going to give you a referral to another surgeon with whom you can discuss your options.  Call Pink Lotus.”  Completely in shock, I looked at my daughters, removed the Tickle Me Elmo from Perry’s hand and the princess doll from Jette’s clutch and got the hell out of Target.  I got in the car and feverishly dialed Pink Lotus.  I was subjected to a recording that said something like “press this if you’re this, and that if you’re that, and hold please, and press this two times, do the hokey pokey, and then realize that no one is going to speak with you so leave a message after the tone.”    I immediately called back Dr. V’s office and her assistant said she would get me an appointment.  When she called back an hour later, I had an appointment…for JULY 26. ***Are you kidding me????*** I was NOT going to wait a MONTH to find out what was lurking in my breast, so I did what I usually do under such circumstances:  I went rogue.  I started dialing back lines (“If you’re a Dr., press 2” – I pressed 2), used connections that I’ve made in this city that I’ve called home my entire life, and I got an appointment for the next day with Dr. Taylor  at Pink Lotus.

“I’m here to ease your mind” were some of the first words from Dr. T.  “I read your MRI report- it’s very vague.”  “Take them off,” I said.  ” Just take ’em.”  She looked at me with a reassuring smile, touched my hand, and said “Let’s not put the cart before the horse.  Let me do an ultrasound and see what’s going on here.”  NOTHING showed up on the ultrasound.  “Let’s get another high resolution mammogram.  But our machine is broken so I’m going to have to refer you to another facility.”   At this point, a familiar face walked into the room: Dr. P. – he was the radiologist who discovered cancer in both my mother and father.  He had been giving me mammograms for years and had recently moved his practice to Pink Lotus.  “Let’s get you that mammogram, but I also want to get another opinion on this MRI.”  After Dr. T. left the room, Dr. P. spoke candidly.  “Cindy, I want them to look for DCIS.”  (DCIS stands for Ductal Carcinoma In Situ.  It is the very beginning stage of breast cancer, when it is “stuck” inside the milk ducts.)

Now an expert at pressing back lines and navigating annoying automated phone systems, I got a local radiologist to agree to stay late (on his birthday no less) to fit in one last mammogram.  His words to me:  “Take your foot off the emergency pedal.  I don’t see anything on this mammogram to indicate DCIS.”  I felt a little bit better.

My next day was spent picking up MRI records and taking them across town for another read.  I wasn’t going to waste 3 days for a US mail.  On Friday, June 28th, I got a call from Dr. T.  The 2nd MRI reading recommended a biopsy, but this had to be done while I was in the MRI machine so that they could target the area in question.  Unfortunately this facility AND the original MRI facility did not have the equipment, nor a qualified Dr. to perform this biopsy.  So I took the film to a THIRD radiology facility and had to wait for another Dr. to once again review the MRI to find out if she could actually see the area of concern in order to be able to perform the biopsy.   It was the Friday before the 4th of July.  I had 3 days to make something happen.  I did the rogue routine and got that appointment just in time.  I didn’t have the patience to wait for Dr. T.’s administrative assistants to schedule it.  But they thanked me profusely for doing their job.

My biopsy under MRI was July 3rd.  I had to wait through the holiday weekend, until July 8th, to hear the words “You have cancer… BUT – you caught it at the earliest stage.  It’s widespread DCIS, nuclear grade 3 (very aggressive), and you will need a mastectomy.  It’s your choice whether you want to take off one or both.”  Dr. T. was compassionate and candid, and I felt like we were both about to go through an incredible adventure together.  We were both going to learn A LOT, and grow, and get through this.  She was 7 months pregnant and as a relatively new Mom,  I felt connected to her.  I knew that she was the right Dr. for me, and I was the right patient for her.

Art Appreciation
Art Appreciation

On July 9th, I met my plastic surgeon, Dr. Jay Orringer.  It was the same feeling – I knew he was supposed to be in my life, and that he was the perfect Dr. to see me through the journey from deconstruction to reconstruction.  He provided the light at the end of the tunnel, and made me feel safe and truly cared for.  Plus he’s an amazing artist 🙂

July 16th was an outpatient procedure at Pink Lotus called a “Nipple Delay” to try to save my nipples.  Apparently, as I was going under anesthesia, Dr. T. asked me “What is most beautiful to you.”  She told me my response was “Watching my children breathe.”  Turns out the cancer was too close to the right nipple so I couldn’t save it.  I had the option of saving the left one, but I wanted to eliminate all milk ducts and keep my risk to a minimum.  Nipple Shmipple.

On July 24th, I visited the Butterfly Garden at the Natural History Museum with my Mom, one of my best friends and our children.  I cried at the beauty, the fragility of these creatures, and the grace of their existence.  I cried because I didn’t want to let down my family.  I was ready to fight what I called “the little f*cker” with every ounce of my being.  I refused to call cancer “the Big C” – there was NO way I would give it that kind of power.  I went home and planted my own butterfly garden.  When I told her about it, Dr. T said she was going to do the same.

I had to explain to my children that Mommy had “owies” in her boobies, that the Drs. were going to take out the owies and put good stuff back in.  And ummmm, my boobies were going to get bigger.  I also promised that the Boobie Fairy would bring them presents while I was in the hospital.  It didn’t take long before my entire neighborhood, their preschool, and every local business knew that Jette and Perry’s Mommy had “owies” in her boobies and was about to trade the bad stuff for bigger and better boobies.

On July 26th, the date I was originally to have my first consultation with Pink Lotus, I had a double mastectomy with placement of tissue expanders (google to discover this modern day torture device).  My BFF Kim was in front of me when I opened my eyes, and she was bearing a gift – it was a necklace with a key charm.  Inscribed on the key was the word “BELIEVE.”

Thank you Kim for this key...I do Believe
Thank you Kim for this key…I do Believe

I remember vividly Dr. T. walking into my hospital room and sitting beside me.  “How are the lymph nodes?” I asked.  That’s one of the biggest fear of anyone going through this surgery – that the cancer may have spread into the lymph system.  “Clear!” she said.  Best. News. Ever.  I said “Thank you for saving my life.”  Dr T. stopped me from going further and said “No, YOU saved your own life.  You were right.  It was on it’s way to becoming invasive cancer and YOU pushed this through.  Your prognosis is great.  You won’t need chemotherapy.”

Me & Rick Springfield. I always wanted to be Jesse's Girl!
Me & Rick Springfield. I always wanted to be Jesse’s Girl!

Within 8 weeks I was up on stage opening up for Rick Springfield, and in November of 2013, I swapped out the expanders for implants.  Was it easy? No.  Was it SO much easier than it could have been?  Oh YES.

This past summer 2014 was the One Year Anniversary of the “New Me,” and I spent the month on stage performing with my dear friends and tour buddies, The Bacon Brothers.  (You can read through my past couple of posts & see some pictures from that tour.)  I have a new set, and a new set, and couldn’t be happier or more grateful for my life, incredible family and friends, and for music – it truly helped me heal. #blessed

 

Two messages that I feel so passionate about as a Survivor are the following:

1.  Early Detection saves lives.

2.  Doctors know the art and science of medicine.  But YOU know your body.

BreastCancer.org was my online resource from day one.  I admit to being a Google addict, but I didn’t have to search very far to find the wealth of information and support available there.  I was meticulous about researching my pathology reports, diagnosis, surgical and treatment options, and constantly (yet very quietly) browsed the message boards to read stories from others who were going through the same journey.  Now I’m ready to share mine in a broader sense.  I am so proud, and honored, to represent BreastCancer.org as their new Ambassador, and feel incredibly grateful for the opportunity to pay it forward.bco_pref_color_tcm8-330108

Update as of 10/7/2014:  CURVE is now available at iTunes and Amazon!  My indie label JamCat Records has a new partner: Blue Elan Records.  Sometimes out of our darkest times comes the brightest blessings, and Blue Elan is one of those for me.  They are handling the marketing and distribution of CURVE so I can spend more time singing for you!

Thank you for supporting indie music!

XO p-nut

Me and Chip on the way to the show at the Canyon Club with Rick Springfield
Me and Chip on the way to the show at the Canyon Club with Rick Springfield

As we approach the holiday season, I shall pass on the turkey breast.  I’ll take sweet potatoes with a side of painkillers, thank you.  Why, because my anticipated meet and greet with the Booby Fairy was postponed to November 20th due to an unanticipated run in with a preschool Germipalooza.  No one should go under the knife with a cold/flu  if they have a choice!  So everyone, please don’t breathe on me, my husband or my kids – I’m hibernating until November 20th 😉  I truly look forward to ending this chapter of my life and turning the page to Good Health, Lots of Love and New Music.   With cancer came a Blessing.  Yes, a Blessing.  I am more appreciative of each breath I take, each hand I hold and each heart that holds me.  So many of you have helped me through a really tough year, and the outpouring of kindness, support and prayers from old friends, new friends, and complete strangers both amazes and humbles me.

One thing that truly helped me heal, both physically and emotionally, was having a special show on the calendar.   Eight weeks after the double mastectomy I got up on stage and opened for Rick Springfield.   Extra special care by Dr. Orringer during the expansion process, hard work with physical therapist Nicolette (Nicky) Theard and sheer determination from all three of us made this happen.  Special thanks to Geoff Pearlman, Paul Trudeau, Harvey Lane & Tina Trevino for rockin’ it with me.  And a shout out to Rick’s drummer of 13 years: Rodger Carter, for thinking of me for the gig.  It was an honor to share the stage with my friends and an ultimate rock star.  Rick really knows how to put on a show. Of course I was in seventh heaven watching Dave Grohl jam with him.  See below for my up close and personal encounters.

Me & Rick Springfield. I always wanted to be Jesse's Girl!
Me & Rick Springfield. I always wanted to be Jesse’s Girl!

I’m writing new music.  It comes from yet another place I didn’t know existed until I got there.  Hope to share the new setS with you starting in February 2014.  I have another 8 week prohibition period after surgery from Dr. O.  Since implants are now microchipped (bet ya didn’t know that), he will know if I disobey a doctor’s orders!

Me: Hi I'm Cindy Alexander, the opening act for Rick. Him: Hi I'm Dave Grohl. Me: Um. Uh I love you. I mean I love your work and I really admire you as a person. Him: Why? I'm an asshole.
Me: Hi I’m Cindy Alexander, the opening act for Rick.
Him: Hi I’m Dave Grohl.
Me: Um. Uh I love you. I mean I love your work and I really admire you as a person.
Him: Why? I’m an asshole.

So what does a high maintenance gal (I’m allowing myself to be like this specifically for this adventure, because there have to be SOME perks to fighting cancer) do before the Big Boob Off?  I got a gel manicure/ pedicure and had my ultra hip hair stylist give me “show hair” to add some flair to my surgery.

Amanda Lee Capomaccio giving me “show hair” for my performance on the operating table.

And then I remembered that sexy blue cap I would have to wear…  So we decided to get creative and make sure we had something especially stylish for the big reveal when the cap came off in the recovery room. Lots of braids mixed in with the bed head waves.

On July 26th I showed up at Cedars with a posse. Family and friends took over the waiting area with Starbucks and muffins (none of which I was allowed) and Chip gave me the best back rub of our entire marriage.  When the surgeons ran late and I was stuck in the pre-op area connected to an IV and heart monitor, Chip then gave me the best foot rub of our entire marriage.  It’s interesting how life and death situations can bring out different and unexpected sides of people. I don’t think I’ve ever loved my husband more – and it’s not because of the back/foot rubs (but those helped).

The things we do for love…

My bilateral double mastectomy with tissue expanders (another perk – I’ve decided to upgrade and never have to worry about those “chicken cutlets,” specifically the one that fell out of my bra at the Mint in 1999) took about 9 hours.  My oncological breast surgeon, Dr. Lesley Taylor (who was 7 months pregnant) and my plastic surgeon, Dr. Jay Orringer are my heroes.  Not only did they save my life, they have also given me the emotional support and empowered me with knowledge to get through this challenging time.  They’ve inspired me with their passion and dedication to their profession/craft.  They are artists in their own way.  I also need to give props to the nurses on 8th Floor South East – they rock.

I’m not really sure of all the details post surgery and through the weekend because there was little drug button that I could push whenever I wanted to…and I pushed it a lot.  But I do remember that by the evening of July 26th, I was propped up in my hospital bed with two little monkeys, gifts from my Mommy.  She named them Booby A and Booby B.  I immediately renamed them Little F*cker 1 and Little F*cker 2.

Little F’er 1 and Little F’er 2 OUT, Chai Tea Latte IN

Something about breast cancer has affected my language and speech patterns.  It’s kind of like Tourette’s Syndrome, but not really. I swear a lot.  I’m going to try to get this under control before I get on stage again, I promise.

On July 31, I got the best news possible:  The cancer was completely removed by the surgery, there was no evidence of any significant invasion, and my lymph nodes were clear. I will not need chemotherapy or radiation.  Yes, I’m one of the lucky ones.  There is no limit to my gratitude, and I believe that the power of prayer and healing, positive thoughts from so many people contributed to this successful outcome.   I am truly blessed.

Interesting timing…look what finally came to life one year after we shot it: The Dr.’s agree, I’m “Wonderful” 😉  (Click to watch the video)

Thank you Kim for this key…I do Believe