Six days ago I was told I have breast cancer.
I know I already knew I had cancer, but hearing someone tell you that you do puts a whole other light on it. It makes it official.
It was suggested I start a blog and let others follow my journey and let others share their stories and we could support one another. I'm not going to do that. It's not me. I'm not a terribly social person and I definitely have a different view on things. I will post this message and possibly a couple of updates, maybe pics.
This is my story so far.
There we were sitting around this table in a small room, the doctor and a nurse along with my husband. The doctor, a pathologist, is talking to me about what I can't recall right now, then she blurts out in this quiet voice that suddenly sounded distant. "You have cancer." I honestly felt like my head spun around and did a double take, but I think I started to look at my husband, then didn't. He didn't touch me, didn't say anything. The doctor went on and on and all I wanted to do was to go for a walk. She apologized for not giving me better news, then left the room. That's when the tears came.
As an after thought, I think they'd already told my husband prior to my arrival. He'd come out from their area after I checked and they called back to let the nurse know I'd arrived. The fact that he waited for me to reach out for him leads me to believe he was instructed to hold back. For that I'm thankful, I probably would have shrugged him off and shot him unintentional daggers. That would have hurt him and that's the last thing I want to do.
And yes, they can tell my husband without me - I gave permission for them to give any and all information to him and our sons as well my mother-in-law. All of my doctor offices have this on file. And because he's over there working on equipment all the time, they know him and like him.
Once the doctor left, the nurse moved to her chair with this thick folder and a manual. I don't know why, but she made be feel crowded. She started going through the information in the folder and then the manual. All the while, I'm thinking she's crazy. This woman is sitting here telling me all about various things I'll have questions about and support groups -- I wasn't going to remember anything she said. Nor did I care to hear about support groups.
And guess what, I had no questions then and have none now. I read through the manual a couple nights later all because after hours of not being able to sleep but for minutes at a time. I gave up. Anyway, I ended up throwing the book. Overwhelmed, not so much. I have a strong family history of cancer and I've had lots of conversations with my mother-in-law. A lot of people have died from cancer on my husband's adopted dad's side of the family. I think it more of too much information at once. The reconstruction chapter is what got to me. Too many choices with not one better than the other. Especially when you're sleep deprieved. I told my husband to read it later, because I wasn't making these decisions alone. However, I found I already had made the decision and he's on board all the way.
After a few nights of this not being able to sleep more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time, I bought sleeping pills. I take half a dose and sleep two hours at a time now. A full dose doesn't wear off until the next afternoon and that doesn't fly when I have to be to work at 9 or 10:30 in the morning.
Working hasn't been a picnic this week. The biopsies did a number on me. The swelling still hasn't completely gone away. The bruising is going away, but it's the soreness that is made worse by all the movement involved in my job. I come home and swallow more Tylenol and hug an ice pack. At night, I can only sleep on one side with a hand pressing in on the poor abused breast. Oh, the joy. I do it with the help of a little blue pill.
I've no desire to spend next Friday with the surgeon, plastic surgeon and other members of the team and listen to options I'm not remotely interested in. I'm losing six hours of work that day - that's $50, because I'd be on production instead of serving. I simply want them to stop pussy-footin' aorund and just do the surgery. I'm not comfortable being left in limbo while my cancer could be spreading. I have Infiltrating/Invasive Ductal Carcinoma - a common, but fast growing cancer. And the fact the doctor told us that time was of the essence sticks in my crawl. I want to scream 'then do the damn surgery and get it over with.'
No one really cares what I want. That angers me. It's already been a month since I found the lump.
Yes, I found the lump. One week it wasn't there, the next week it was. I'm obessive about checking myself with my family history. I know the size, the shape and the texture of it. It's large. At first, I thought maybe it was the result of being elbowed although I'd been elbowed many times and never got so much as a bruise much less a lump. So, I was going to wait until I saw my primary to have it checked out - my appointment was just two weeks away. I figure it would give me time to tell my husband. I was chicken. I didn't want to add on another set of medical bills, because we just paid off the last set. I had a couple of scares back the end of Feb. and first part of March. But mostly, I didn't want my husband to feel like he had to cancel his plans for this hunting season. It's the highlight of his year, every year. And it fills our freezer for a year.
A week passed and I knew I couldn't wait. The thought of my doctor yelling at me for doing so didn't sit well. And I was litterally running into the lump with my arm and had some swelling in my pit area. So, I broke down and called my GYN office and they got me in the same morning. Instead of my doctor doing her job I was pawned off [yet again] onto a nurse-midwife. When I was told this, I worried. Would she even be qualified to handle this kind of case? She came in all bubbly and full of life -- I liked that. She asked two totally stupid questions, then checked the lump. "I'm pretty sure it's just a cyst, it's soft, round, smooth and pliable - it moves, but we'll schedule a mammomgram just to make sure." I'm thinking, "what the hell did she just feel to come up with that description?" The lump is not soft, it's not pliable, and it does not move. Most of all it's not round and smooth, it's hard, long and has bumps and ridges. As she's walking out the door, she adds, "I'll go ahead and order a sonogram just in case they want to do one." Ya think?
I really hate my GYN office, but no one is taking new patients and I had a long wait to get into this one.
I leave thankful at least someone else will be looking at it.
Still, knowing what I did, I hoped it was just a cyst.
The next evening, after I had the appointment for the mammogram on my calendar, I told my husband. He was very supportive and comfortable with the idea that a nurse said it was a cyst. On the following Monday, he met me at the Cancer Treatment Center just down the road from where he works. He told me he was there earlier working on a printer and he told the head of the department he'd be back with me. So, they discussed my case and she brought up my file. She promised I'd have the best care. So when the tech assigned to me came out, he knew her and she promised not to hurt me.
I was upbeat. There was no time wasted. She did the pics - no pain like she promised my husband. The tech who did my annual back in March was horrid. However, the doctor wanted one more pic. The view he asked for meant she had to squish the lump and as much of the lymph nodes as she could get while I stood with my side facing the plates.I nearly passed out from the pain, but since the doctor made her do it, my husband didn't hold it against her.
I saw the pics for the first time just before the doctor came in to do the sonogram. A large dark stormy mass. Totally different than what they looked at with the other breast last March. He spent a while looking at it and my lymph nodes via the sonogram When I was allowed to sit up, I saw the pics he took and worry on his face when I looked at him. The only thing he admitted to at that point was that the lump was solid and he was concerned about the lymph node. He ordered biopsies on both. I had to wait a week, because they were trying to stick to my days off. I wasn't ready to tell me boss.
We went in for the biopsies. My husband met with the doctor beforehand, I didn't know this until afterward. Once I was taken back, the department head took him back to see her. I had another doctor doing these tests. I was scheduled to get the results by phone the next afternoon, but the doctor said no - she had to see me. The panic in her voice set off alarms in my head. She expressed her concern over the lymph node, however those results wouldn't be in until later in the week.
I don't know why they can't be straight forward with you. That frustrates me and makes me angry. Obviously, both of these doctors had enough experience to know they were looking at cancer.
I spent the day, trying to talk myself into being told it was just a cyst and they would remove it and I'd only miss a week of work while I stained wood with my left hand. That I could handle. The following day on the drive in - cancer kept flashing through my mind, but I kept chasing it away by telling myself that they were going to tell me it was just a cyst.
Being positive didn't help and giving myself pep talks didn't help. I hate it when the gut is right and I don't want it to be.
I remember most of what she told me after she broke the news to me. I should have had genetic testing long ago with my family history. I have a good chance for ovarian cancer. I'm a candidate for a double masectomy. All of this will be discussed with the surgeon and a whole team of people I meet with on November 4th. I was assigned to one of the two top breast surgeons in the area.
I was numb, stunned and all that when I had to face the reality of it. I cried, my husband cried when I finally reached for him.
People told me to be angry at the cancer not my family and friends. I'm thinking, what kind of planet did you people come from. I'm not angry at the cancer, I'm not angry at anyone or anything.
Everyone has a chance for cancer if they have the right trigger. Some of us have more of a push by genetics I knew at some point I would have breast cancer. There's no avoiding it. My dad's side of the family is full of breast cancer and other types. Yesterday, I was talking to one of my aunts - the only one who hasn't been stricken yet. She's had three lumps removed which caused my dad to think she had cancer. Two years ago her youngest daughter was diagnosed with it and just recently another cousin was as well.
I did feel betrayed by all the websites I looked at. They all said the most important thing is 'don't panic', the second thing 'get checked out' - 4 out of 5 lumps are just a cyst of some kind and 85% are benign. Not a single site prepares you for the possibility of you being that 5th that isn't a cyst or that 15% that isn't benign.
I don't know how others feel, but having survival stories thrown at you does not help. Oh, so and so went through and they are doing great. Yeah, I know people who went through it and are doing fine, too. But did they have the family history I do? No. The fact my doctors are floored by my family history and the concerns they're expressing over it is enough to cause anyone to worry. Reoccurances of the cancer is high in my family and people die from it.
I was upset about this happening during the holidays - I don't want to ruin it for the kids. I've told my husband that it doesn't matter when they schedule the surgery, he's not to change his plans. If he's not here, so what. I have other people. He's leaving for South Dakota November 11th for a week.
I'm not happy about the idea of losing my hair, but I've figured out a way to deal with that. I told the kids they could do artwork on my baldness after I go to a former place of employment and let my friends autograph it.
I'm not normal and I know it and don't care. I don't worry about not having boobs - I celebrate it. I hate wearing bras period. I will not have rescontructive surgery and I will not wear fake ones nor will I wear a wig.
They say the sooner your husband sees your scar the better. I'm not one of those who worries about how I'll look with no boobs, he's not one who cares either. I actually cracked myself up yesterday while I was making a pizza delivery. I could have my sister-in-law tattoo nipples on me and do a flower garden around the scars. I told my husband and he loves the idea.
I had pain before the biopsies and I have more pain now. That makes me testy. I don't do pain well, but I don't complain and whine about it either.
Oh, I didn't mention the results of the lymph node biopsy - the nurse called me the next day to tell me the cancer has spread to the lymph node they tested. So we know I'm at least stage 2. I have to wait for surgery to find out more.
Tomorrow, I go in to see my primary. I had to reschedule my appointment I had with him due the mammogram and sonogram testing. I'm his first patient of the day. Not a way to start the week for him. I had all the information sent to him in addition to my GYN. Since I see him on a regular basis and he's downstairs from the treatment center, he's being brought in as part of the team. I was hoping to walk in and give him good news - I made it through three weddings, I've lost a few pounds and my blood pressure is down. Ha! I can still tell him I survived the weddings without his help and well, the weight loss will be for not. I'm told I'll gain weight during chemo. As for my blood pressure, well, it's doubtful it's down now. We shall see. He's really been watching me for depression. I was depressed and he was leaving it up to me about whether or not I go on meds. I was depressed because I was only working one day a week and home the rest. I can't sit at home. I need to be working. I just went back to work full time back in August.
Although my boss says to take all the time I need to heal, the job will still be mine and the management position I'm being trained for will still be mine. I don't know how long I'll be out yet. The law is not on my side due the fact that I've not been there a year. It's going to hard for him not to hire someone to work days in my place. He can't afford to always pull someone off nights to cover days every day. I know this and understand this. So, this has been a worry.
Tomorrow afternoon, I have a breast MRI scheduled. I'll get the results from it on Tuesday. They said quite possibly they'll do more testing before Friday.
Over all, I'm in great spirits, as long as I get some sleep. I'm scared, but that's normal. I'll feel better once they do the pre-op tests on my liver, lungs, bones and brain and tell me there's no sign of cancer there.
How all this will affect my writing, I don't know. Right now, the very idea of getting back to the Christmas story was I was working seems unimportant. That's not to say in a week I won't get back at it. I could just need time to absorb all the stuff I'll be put through.
I do know my sissy will be with me most of the time. She's been awesome. Technically, she's not my sister, but just because we're not blood doesn't make her any less my sister.
This is my life right now.
Bekki
