yay!!

Benign! No cancer in any of the samples! I'm too elated to be pithy today.

They still recommend I have the mass removed, which I will. I have a meeting with a top breast surgeon in Chicago on Nov. 4. But that seems like popping a zit compared to what I was fearing.

Who knew that you could laugh your way through a biopsy?

My radiologist and the nurses were fun ladies - we actually had a good time laughing about things while she did my biopsy. I didn't feel a thing after the lidocane, am not in any pain now, so overall, not bad!

Now, the radiologist (who is different from the one I saw last week) described my "lesion" as "really weird" with ill defined edges. None of that is terribly positive news. She also said she'd think I'd want this out of me one way or another - its pretty big!

So she will call me with the results, either way, and by this time in 2 days I should know my immediate fate.

The funniest thing was that there was a rep there for vacuum assist needles and he wanted to observe a biopsy. I agreed, and in came this kid - probably recently out of college - who looked uncomfortable enough and then I said "Hi there! I hear you want to see my boobs!" All us girls just LAUGHED and he turned bright red. It was a riot.

A little confession

I don't like pain. Oh sure, I can tell you I've got a great tolerance for it. I've birthed 2 babies, one with no meds, broken many bones, had disk damage in my back.

But I screamed and cried and moaned through all of them.

So I'm a bit concerned with my biopsy tomorrow. I hope they stocked up on Lidocaine, because I don't want them scrimping on me. I originally was just going to go myself (Hubby home babysitting) but I've decided to let my friend come with and drive me in case I'm a big blubbering baby afterward. (Thanks Pam!!)

More news as it happens . . .

Wow, this could be cancer!

Ok, seems like a strange revelation at this point, but it kind of hit me yesterday. I had almost a romanticized version of all this in my head. Basically, I assumed that it would take the exact same course as my Mom's. But it probably wouldn't. She had a mastectomy and the margins were clear, no radiation, no chemo, just Tamoxifin.

But I'm younger, and premenopausal. I have a pretty big mass (4.5cm x 1.5cm). Radiation and/or chemo would likely be in my future.

By this time this week I'll know. I've never wished for fat so much!

I have a date!

With a core biopsy needle, that is ... Tuesday, Oct 6. That may also be the day our teachers go on strike. Won't that be fun! Wonder if I could get Andrew back into preschool . . .

I called Northwestern, and the very nice person there suggested that it would be faster just to go ahead with the biopsy at Ingalls. And I am comfortable with that - I liked everyone I met there, I didn't have to wait at all, and its relatively close. Georgia, the breast care coordinator (there's a joke in there somewhere . . .) was really nice, explained everything to me, etc. I have her direct line, which is nice.

So . . . more waiting. At least only a week. By this time in 8 days I should have results. Good thing I have a big wedding (Steve's sister's) to distract me this weekend!

Francis is still an enigma

Sooo, I went to the Breast Center today (which looks like any other doctor suite, except slightly more pink) and had my ultrasound. Mary, the tech, was nice and funny. But she was all business when doing the u/s and with good reason. At least the mass was visible on the ultrasound. I, of course, try to ask questions and she, of course, tells me the radiologist will be in to see me.

So RadioHead (there's no good reason for my nickname of him, other than his profession) comes in, feels me up, does his own scan, and tells me he thinks its a lipoma (a big ball of fat. Which lately is kinda how I feel) and wants to do a CT right away to prove it. So sure enough, they walk me 20 feet and 3 people are waiting for me to do the CT. Man, I've never had such service. It was pleasant enough, and if I kept my eyes closed I could imagine that I was about to get a facial, which sounds really good right now. Anyway.

Tech comes in and messes with the placement of the BB (they marked Francis - and WHY, might I ask, do they bother making them pretty? Like we're going to go home and tantalize our husbands with a little marker that has purple flowers on it?) so I know its not going well. They finish up and take me back to the room.

RadioHead comes in and tells me that the CT didn't tell him anything (but, seems to me that if it was supposed to PROVE a lipoma, and it didn't, doesn't that say something?) and his recommendation is to get a biopsy. Or wait 6 months and check. Yeah, right.

I asked what my Birads was (that's the level of concern they put on their readings) and he seemed taken aback that I knew such a term (uh, hello! I have internet!) and he said 4, which means suspicious for cancer. Doesn't mean it IS cancer though.

So now we're playing that "ok, we'll send the report to your doctor, who can then write the order, and then you can call for a biopsy appt, and we only do them on Tuesdays and Wednesdays." More waiting. Goody.

Ok, and maybe its just been my luck but every ultrasound technician I've ever had has been really pretty. Hmm.

Francis

So for some reason I've decided my lump needs a name. Yes it needs to be named for what it is (benign, carcinoma, etc) but I can't do that.

But I can give it a name.

Maybe I shall call it Jason. To me, that name can go either way.
If its benign, I think I'll call it Herb. You know, the guy who is merely an annoyance.
Have to come up with a good cancerous name. Something evil. Zoltar? No, that gives it too much power. Severus? Maybe Francis, because that sounds totally beatable and easy to say with disdain. Yeah, I'm liking Francis. Francis can be benign too.

Maybe I just need a pet. Darn all my allergic family!

I should . . . oh, wait.

I should set up appts. with a personal trainer . . .oh, wait.
I should book the Disney trip with Ryan . . oh, wait.
I should sign up for that class . . . oh, wait.
I should set dates for the Vegas trip . . .oh, wait.

This kind of stuff keeps going through my mind and then I realize that making plans right now is not a good idea. Waiting sucks. Feel like the daily grind goes on, but the things you get to look forward to are on hold. Oh well. Tiny little self pity party there.

Breast Ultrasound tomorrow. Wonder if it will be a boy or a girl! (Har har) Of course, this will likely tell us nothing, but its the next step and then I can get a biopsy.

Lump hasn't changed much despite having gotten my period. That's not really a good sign.

Time to watch me some Desperate Housewives and be grateful I don't have their lives!! (though I'd take ANY of their bodies!)

About my mom

At the end of October of 2000, my mom's mammogram picked up a mass. The doctor decided to do an excisional biopsy, and discovered that she had not one, but 2 types of cancer. Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (garden variety, slow growing cancer) and an invasive type. Her regular doctor, who was also the town surgeon (yep, rural living) wanted to act immediately to remove the breast. She told him he had to wait. And she told him that he could not tell ANYONE about the cancer.

Why? Because I was getting married on November 4. She told us all was fine, so as to not put any damper on my wedding. She was my maid of honor, and at the wedding was still bleeding and oozing from the biopsy site - she wore a maxi pad in her bra to be sure she didn't get any blood on the dress. Again - she didn't tell anyone about this. Not even my father.

She didn't tell my father because he is a lousy liar. Mostly because he's unfailingly honest. In fact, during my honeymoon - after Mom finally told him - I called to check in and heard my dad in the background say "Did you tell her??" She could've killed him, I'm told. I knew at that point, intuitvly that she had breast cancer.

The morning after we returned from our honeymoon, I called my parents and my mother told me she had breast cancer and was having a mastectomy in 3 days. I lost it. Poor Steve came out of the bedroom to find his wife just screaming and sobbing. Mom told me to give him the phone, and she filled him in and suggested he slap me or something.

I went home 2 days later, and stayed for a couple of weeks to help take care of her and the farm. Poor hubby.

She had a mastectomy and luckily it had not spread to the lymph nodes. She opted against reconstruction.

She's been cancer free since then.

All through it, she told me that she just KNEW everything would be ok. She wasn't scared. She was pretty upbeat through all of it. I have literally see her handle hurt toes worse.

So now I'm on the other side of this table. And I'm not telling mom. Not because of a wedding (that's one reason I'm not telling Steve's family - his sister gets married on Saturday). She's been really sick for over a year now. Not cancer related - COPD, Heart Failure, and a lot of related and unrelated ailments. She's in pretty poor mental state because of it all, and popping plenty of xanax to deal with the anxiety of her own health. She doesn't need to worry about me too, or God-forbid, blame herself for it somehow. I'll wait until we know what we're dealing with.

Its hard not having Mom for this though. And of course I can't tell Dad because he would spill it.

So that's Mom's story. She's where I get my strength, and I'm grateful for her calmness during her cancer, because that has spread to me, to an extent.

Retail therapy

Ok, I have never been a shopper. Well, I like a good antique mall, but as far as STUFF goes, especially clothes and accessories.

So, why is it then that I spent HUNDREDS at the mall the other day - on clothes and TWO purses (Cute Coach and Kate Spade)? I've NEVER been a purse person. And now I keep looking at necklaces?

Probably the same reason that cookies and brownies keep finding their way into my mouth. Emotions. Avoidance.

So what's worse - the eating or spending? The eating, for sure. I feel I've earned a few cute pieces, and at least I can USE them, but I cannot use the extra pounds.

Hmm, less sure

I've had a lot of bravado since this happened. I knew I wanted, without a doubt, a double mastectomy with reconstruction to smaller breasts, with a nipple tattoo (no nipple reconstruction). I was pretty sure that I wanted implants, although the idea of having a tummy tuck and using the "waste" to make new boobs was enticing, for the pure tummy tuck idea. But I figure if I'm getting new boobs it would be nice to have some that will be forever perky and require no bra!

My attitude was that they've done their job, so I won't miss them. But I think I will. My boobs, frankly, have been a big part of my life (pun somewhat intended). We're done having kids, so I know I won't miss out on breastfeeding a baby, but its sad that my "girls" who endured mastitis, plugged ducts, cracked nipples, and a deal-breaking bite will be medical waste. I now wonder what I will look like without them - even with reconstruction. For one thing, I'm pretty balanced now - I've got big hips and a butt, but the big chest to go with them. I will go from hourglass to pear.

I also realize now (from research) that they will be numb. Always. That's sad.

I laid awake last night, wondering if I had implants if I could sleep on my stomach. I'm a serious stomach sleeper, and luckily, morning research shows that after they are healed, yes I can. Whew.

So, 2 days until the u/s. I'll demand a biopsy, regardless of results of that, but it may give us more reason to worry or breathe easy.

Paging Doctor Boob . . .

Ok, so I emailed a breast surgeon this morning to ask if I should move to his practice now (and not do the ultrasound from Ingalls). I havent' heard back. This annoys me, but only because he said he wanted to be contacted via email. However, maybe he was talking about CURRENT patients. Who knows. I'm only mildly annoyed.

I did like how he described Breast Cancer: he says it is not a medical emergency, but it is often a psychological emergency. I totally get it.

Anywhoo, we'll see. I've been keeping busy. Seems my reaction is to do some emotional eating, and emotional spending - which is a new coping skill (avoiding skill?) for me. Today? $500 of knives. Whoo hoo!

Note: He DID email be back - said to do u/s at Ingalls, can transfer after. Hooray!

Its a lump, its a lump its a lump, lump, lump . . .

Yes, on my left breast. 2 o'clock, if you must know.

I went in for my annual pap, and the doctor found it. Now, I'm not good about or at self exams. I've got generally lumpy breasts so if I ran in for everything that felt like a lump I'd be there constantly. Well, now I know what a lump feels like. Mine is decent sized, 2cm. Doctor says it may be a cyst, I've had a mammogram that showed nothing, and go in for an ultrasound next Tuesday. Believe you me, I will have every test available until they can tell me with absolute certainty I do not have breast cancer. Or do.

My mother had breast cancer at 69. Two types were found at once - only one showed up on the mammogram. I'll save her story for another day, but one thing I found amazing then was that she was very calm about it. I'd seen her have a worse reaction to an infected cuticle. She told me that she just knew she was going to be fine.

Now I get it, because I, too, calmly believe that everything is going to be fine. And I'm saying that with the full assumption that I HAVE breast cancer, because until they tell me I do not, that's what I believe. But yes - I feel its going to be fine.

If I do have it, I plan to be extremely aggressive in treatment - lop 'em off. Both of them. Why? One, I'll always think I have it if they don't, and two, I wouldn't mind having a matched pair of perky B cups until I'm 90. (I'm a D, and never need to be this big). I mean, they've done their job - attracted men, and fed 2 babies for over a year each. I can live without them now.

I've told only 3 people - 2 best girlfriends and Steve. And I waited a while on that. I've been doing research, found the doctor I'll see at Northwestern if it comes to it, etc.

All right, more as it happens.