For the last three weeks I’ve been in a fog. It has been like being in a surreal world that is barely out of sync with what is going on around me, but being unable to place my finger on what is not right. Until I look at my calendar and realize the events that have transpired in just the last 21 days. It is like they are happening to someone else, not to me, and I am watching and being sucked into this alternative reality. And then I realize, this IS my life and these things are happening to me!
The end of September 2010 I went in for a routine mammogram. I was not at all surprised when I was called and told my doctor wanted to have me go back for a second look at my right breast along with an ultra sound of that breast. From the very first time I had a mammogram I have always been called back for a second look, so this was not unusual. On Monday morning, October 4th I went in for my second look and ultra sound. I had never had an ultrasound on a breast before so was very intrigued at what they were doing. Having had an ultrasound when I was pregnant, it was very obvious what I was looking at, but watching the technician do her job was fascinating. Every now and then she would see a blip of a dark spot and I would wonder what she was looking at as for the most part, everything looked the same. She told me the images were being sent to the Dr that would read them and I would have my results before I left the office. That was the last time I felt confident in my ignorance, and was not worried about the results of this ‘routine’ second test. When the Doctor came into the room and began talking to me I heard everything up until he said “I see a very suspicious spot and I would say there is a 90% chance that it is a cancer, and you should schedule a biopsy as soon as you can.” Wow, did he just say CANCER to ME? I could feel my heart skip a beat or two. My head began to spin and my mind raced. He must be mistaken, they always take a second look and it is never anything to be worried about. Any other part of that conversation was lost on me, as I got dressed and went out to find my husband. He asked me if we were ready to go and I said ‘No, we have to schedule a biopsy”. I heard myself talking, saying the Doctor said there was a 90% chance I had a cancer in my breast. Those words did not just come out of my mouth! He joined me to meet with the nurse who would schedule my biopsy for me. She was a wonderful person, a blessing to me as she was very warm and understanding. We clicked, the three of us, as we discussed scheduling me for the following morning. I was told the results would be ready in 3 to 4 days and I did not want to wait through the weekend to find out if it was really cancer.
To say the least, that was the longest night of my life! I could not sleep, I kept hearing the words ‘cancer’, ‘90% chance it’s malignant’, ‘biopsy’ and ‘very treatable’, etc. in my head. Every time I closed my eyes that night, my mind would not shut off. I have always been a strong person, and have been proud that I handle difficult situations like a champ, but this had totally blown me away. I was not in denial, nor was I in concurrence, I was in limbo. I did not know what to think. There was no cancer in my family, in fact my parents are still alive, my father is 91 and my mother is 88 and they are both pretty feisty. I have been supportive of my wonderfully kind and compassionate husband who has had heart disease and gone through a number of heart attacks and surgeries, and I have dealt with that extremely well. Why was this causing me to shrink up inside myself and causing me to feel so unable to cope?
The next morning, Tuesday I went to the same office I had been the day before. There were many women checking in for procedures and I wondered how many of them were there for a check up, how many had been given the same news I had and how many of them were just fine. At that moment I found statistics bouncing around in my head, how many women really get breast cancer. The fact that this is Breast Cancer Awareness month seemed like an appropriate time for this to happen, as I’ve got an odd sense of humor and that appealed to me as I waited for my appointment. I met with my nurse, the same warm caring soul I had the day before, which I found very comforting. The day before she had asked me if I had wanted anything to help relax me during the biopsy procedure. I, in my very strong and independent way said ‘No thanks, I’ll be fine’. However, that morning I asked her if it was okay if I changed my mind as I had not slept the night before and could really use something to take the edge off of my anxiety. She smiled and had me sign the consent form for taking the medication, a light dose of valium. I must say, it really did help me feel less uptight, and for the first time since the day before I was slightly relaxed. Not long after that, we met briefly with the Dr who was going to do the ultrasound guided biopsy. He drew a little picture of what he was going to do; my nurse had warned me he was a terrible artist and normally I would have teased him, however, the valium had mellowed me a tad past the smart ass stage so his artwork was brilliant as far as he knows. From there we went into the room for my procedure. I really did not feel the little shots they gave me to numb the area they would be working on. I was able to see everything they did, and watch on the ultrasound machine as he stuck the needle in and sucked part of the suspicious mass out of my breast. He had hoped to get it all out, but you can never be sure. Once he was finished he injected a tiny little marker to mark the area he had worked on so should anyone have to go back at a later date, that marker would indicate where they had worked and taken samples from. And, that was that. They gave me an ice pack to wear in my bra off and on for the afternoon. I really was surprised at how little pain I felt and even how little bruising there was. Even that would indicate how healthy I must be and how there couldn’t be anything wrong with me!
Now I was waiting, waiting to hear from my Doctor. I must admit, I felt so very much better just having had the biopsy because I knew that from that point forward I was on a journey. I did not know where it would lead, what kind of twists and turns it would take me down, but I knew that at least there would soon be answers. It was like a weight had been lifted. I was still anxious to a point, but not like I was the day before when I first heard the “C” word. That day was unlike any day I have ever had, and I hope never to have another like it. I could feel my confident, positive self beginning to return. That, too, made me feel much better as I am a confident person and feeling the anxiety I had felt for the first 24 hours of this ordeal was as disturbing to me as the news I had heard that caused me to feel that way! That’s not to say I was not still in a bit of a fog, but it was more of a light mist than a real fog.
Wednesday was a ‘normal’ day; I went to work and came home. I shared some of what I was going through with some of the people at my office, because I needed to talk about it. Many of them had been through the waiting game themselves or with a spouse or a friend or loved one and usually they were given good news, no cancer, just a fright. I felt pretty good with that as I was still optimistic the results were going to come back negative for me anyway. But, I also was haunted by the Doctor who read my ultrasound and took the biopsy because he was so confident that what he saw had a 90% chance of being cancer. It was that day I found one of the ladies I work with had begun a similar journey a few years before me and she shared some of her experiences with me. She told me should my results come back positive, she would be there for me and would help me any way she could. I am thankful for her and her willingness to share her experience with me.
Thursday, October 7th 2010, I received the call I had been waiting for from my Doctor. She asked if I could come by her office to talk about the test results. I asked her what they said, not wanting to have the whole conversation on the phone, but knowing if she wanted me to come in it couldn’t be good. When she said the results had come back malignant I knew I wanted to meet with her face to face and to have my husband along so when I zoned out again, he would hear what was just going to be buzzing in my ears. It was interesting that she told me she was very surprised by the results as I told her “So was I!”
I called my husband to let him know I would be picking him up and we would be meeting with the doctor that afternoon. Until that very moment, I was sure they had made a mistake and that the results would come back as just a dense mass in my breast. From there, things picked up momentum. Before the end of the next day, Friday, I had an appointment to meet with the Surgeon scheduled for Monday October 11th, and an appointment with the Oncologist scheduled for Wednesday. It turns out I knew the surgeon as he had done a surgery on me seven years earlier. He is a wonderful Doctor, and a very genuine, warm man. He spent at least an hour going over everything with my husband and myself. He explained about breast cancer and how treatable it is. How the advances in even the last five years were spectacular. He told me my options and what each one would involve; a lumpectomy and radiation therapy, a mastectomy and a rebuild and what that would involve. We discussed lymph nodes and the need to take out some to see if the cancer might have spread to other areas of my body. He was very thorough and very comforting in the information he was giving us. He explained things in such a way that I felt calm. He scheduled an MRI for me on Thursday the 14th so he could have more defined pictures of both breasts. In addition, he told me I should meet with a plastic surgeon because if I chose to have a mastectomy and an immediate rebuild, I would need to have one on board. He gave his nurse two names to contact for appointments. Both had said they could make appointments two weeks out, but he said that was not good enough. Before I left his office I had an appointment set for Monday the 18th with a plastic surgeon. WOW, things were rolling. I met with the oncologist on Wednesday the 13rh. She was very good, very clinical. She went over the results of the biopsy and the stage of the cancer which, from the size of the tumor, was a stage 1. She gave me orders to have some blood drawn to see if a medication she was considering would be workable for me and we also talked about the options I had for treatment. Before we could plan that, we would need the results of the tissue removed via the lumpectomy, mastectomy or double mastectomy as well as the lymph nodes that would be removed. I was back to being a little anxious, but holding up much better than the first day or two. I still had a direction, but was not sure what path to take.
The next day was the MRI. I had heard from some of my friends that had one, they can be scary, but as it goes, it was not so bad. I think the worst part was when they told me to lay on my stomach and let my breasts hang through the openings in the little platform. The technician went out of the room to check the machine and came back in and told me they’d have to change the set up a bit because I was ‘hitting bottom’. Now that’s awful, my boobs were apparently a bit too long so they had to have a taller platform! OUCH, the humility of it all, ha! I got over that as I’m used to my breasts being a little less ‘perky’ than they had been, and I was anxious to get the tests over with. The whole thing took around half an hour or so. The machine was very loud. They would take a series of pictures some lasting a couple minutes, some lasting four or more minutes at a time. The sounds for different sets of shots were very different from each other. I found myself making words out of the noises, kind of like aliens or some senseless song. I guess idle minds find anything to entertain themselves.
After that it was a weekend! I had a lot to think about, and even though I did not think I was dwelling on the whole thing, I believe my brain was consumed with digesting all of the information I had received over the past two weeks. I was in a zone, maybe the twilight zone, I’m not really sure. My husband was very patient, and I’m sure concerned, but I was actually feeling pretty good in that I was almost sure that I wanted to go with the double mastectomy and the rebuild of both breasts. I felt like if we only did one breast, I would spend the rest of my life worrying that the cancer would pop up in the other breast. If that happened ten years from now and my insurance had changed, or heck – the healthcare system had changed, what would I do? I felt I was in a good place, and I did not want to have to worry about what would be found on my next mammogram or the one after that.
As it turns out, On Monday the 18th, when I met with the plastic surgeon, he told me the MRI had found another larger suspicious area in my left breast. They would suggest a biopsy to see if it, too, was cancer. I thought, “Why do another biopsy and then do surgery, too?” I would like to have both breasts and some lymph nodes removed and then head on down the road of my journey to where it leads me, without worry or at least with minimal worry. So it was at that point I decided what I was leaning toward wanting to do in the first place, a double mastectomy and a rebuild. It turned out my kids and my husband had been hoping I would make that choice, but they did not want to influence me, they wanted it to be my decision. Now at least I had a direction to go in and I had regained a little control. The decision was made and I had been quickly educated to the fact that once diagnosed, things begin to move quickly and come at you at a very fast rate. They were not kidding!!!!
I’ll call that the end of phase one for me, now the plans will be made and the fight begins!
