Wednesday, October 4, 2017

The Treatment Plan and More Waiting... - Breast Cancer

I feel like my heart is racing while I sit at my desk watching the time tick by before I meet with my Breast Cancer surgeon. I'm scared to death of everything right now. I feel like I'm sweating, but I'm not. I feel like I can't breathe, but I am.

Part of me wants to leave sooner, so I can get to my mom's sooner, so I can relax before we head out. I'm also predicting a slight competition on the note taking. The only way I can really follow what's going on, in general, is to take notes.  However, I want us both (my mom and myself, if not even my cousin Maria), to be taking notes as well.

My fiance will be at home waiting for a call and I will not go home until he deal with the other fear of mine. There is a giant bee or wasp in our house.  How that rat bastard got in the house in the first place perplexes me... (UPDATE: he got the WASP trying to hide in my black tennis shoe..that would not have been pleasant to find while trying to put on my shoes to workout.  Okay, who are we kidding, the risk wasn't high).

Okay, back on topic.

Flashing forward now. I left work full of anxiety and met my mom and my cousin Maria and we prepared to meet the Surgeon to discuss the results of the biopsy further as well as what was to come. The first fun thing to happen was upon our entry into the brand new breast center in Maplewood. This center had apparently opened that very day.  Immediately upon entering a woman approached us to help direct us. She quickly tried to redirect us to St. John's because the breast center WASN'T opened yet. I was very confused and read off the address and suite I was given.

She then matched my look of confusion and took on one of panic. "I think I might have just sent someone to the wrong place." I sighed in relief and then told her not to worry, she would be back.

I proceed upstairs with my "entourage" and check in for my appointment. Can I ask why I must be weighed every single time I go to the doctor?  This is not good for my self esteem.

A nurse comes out very shortly and calls my name and leads us on a little jaunt to a brand new exam room and takes down information. The standard information that you give. (I was fortunate enough to fill out the questionnaire online, so I didn't have to do this when I got there). She departs after instructing me to undress from the waist up and and put on a gown. I need to keep reminding my cousin Maria not to peek.

Within moments the doctor is back in the room and does a brief exam of both just to get an idea herself and she feels it. We were given so much information during that consultation it would make you head spin. My mom wrote furiously and apparently Maria just remembered everything. At first I knew most of everything she was saying and then after the preliminary came the detail.

The long and short of it is many whatifs.  First, I need to have an MRI done and a genetic test for the breast cancer gene since I'm young and there really isn't family link. Yes, my grandmother and great grandmother, but since no one else in the family has had this issue as of yet, and my grandmothers were much older when diagnosed, it didn't play into genetics in their opinion. (Most likely Melina will need to have mammograms at 29 years of age.)

If the MRI didn't show that the cancer has moved out of the ducts and into other tissue, then she would most definitely scheduling a surgery.  Hopefully it will be a lumpectomy. Then we can get the FULL pathology from the core biopsy already done and discuss next steps.  However, all three of us  got the distinct impression that the Doctor would be very surprised if it hadn't become invasive because NORMALLY with my type of cancer you wouldn't feel the lump before it had become invasive. If it has, we also had the impression that we would be looking at a different type of surgery, mastectomy. And finally, there is the real possibility that if the gene test shows a mutation then a bi-lateral (double) mastectomy could be the answer.  This would happen because the chances of the other breast developing cancer becomes very high. I'm really okay with that. I want to be around to see my daughter's kids and I'm not that invested in my breasts that I would choose them over a life with her. Though they are pretty awesome, strangely the right one has begun to feel foreign on my body. (The only time I agree with the current administration on dealing with foreigners, is in this very specific moment....get out!)

The Doctor was knowledgeable and honest and even had insight into my brother's cancer and said things that his doctors refused to say when they should have. There wasn't much that would have saved Jake.  That was the reality.

She left the room and another nurse arrived to schedule the MRI. Another wonderful thing, radiology wanted to schedule the MRI for the 16th! All three of us looked at her and immediately she told them that they needed to squeeze me in before that. So 800 am this morning it was. I was relieved. If it hasn't moved, I don't want to give it three weeks to do so.

I left feeling a little better. Especially since the Doctor had said that the best "worst" case scenario would be fake boobs and wig by the time of my wedding.  I can definitely live with that. Not to mention I'm trying on dresses this Saturday, so I shouldn't have to worry about the dress looking too different.

Now, I sit here at home after a very long day trying to process everything. More waiting now as I wait for the Doctor to review the MRI and tell me what she found and when the surgery will be.  Again, I'm fairly confident that no matter what, I'm having surgery next week along with a sentinel biopsy on a lymph node. Luckily I will be unconscious for, seeing how the biopsy I already experienced was not pleasant and another not painless IV today during the MRI. Not to mention an MRI where I felt like I was on a milking machine. It's not easy to explain by any means.

I was on my stomach, raised, with my "boobs" in two holes. After being squeezed into the tube (since there is less room in this particular MRI) I laid there for 20 minutes or more until they finally released the dye and another 20 minutes or more. I felt the powerful magnet numerous times on my low back and worried about what that might doing to my body. I tried not to cough or move, but every time it started up again and the magnet pulsated on my bum, I jerked a bit. (and not in a good way)

An hour or more later I almost jumped for joy in the tube when I heard a door open. I knew this nightmare was almost over and just before claustrophobia set in.

We then headed over to the Genetic testing, but went to the wrong floor and wrong place. Back down one more floor (and I was kind of dizzy after the MRI) and finally found the cancer wing.  This was a hard place to be. It scared me and broke my heart all at the same time to see those people coming in for a chemo treatment. I calmed myself and thought I'm here for a blood draw and then we can leave and eat.

The genetic testing lady came and retrieved me and I left behind my mom and Maria in the waiting room.  Can't go anywhere without my entourage, you know. As soon as we sit down, (a student is also there) I realize pretty quickly this isn't just a blood draw. This will be another hour or more of information and family history before the test.

When I've given all the details I know I get my mom and Maria so they wouldn't worry and they join me for the rest of the meeting. I had at this point decided against the blood draw but the saliva test.  You know when they swab your with a Q-Tip, like on all the cop shows, and your done....NOPE.  You have to repeatedly spit (gross) into a tube until it's full. My mouth was already dry. Fun times.

But here I am, exhausted emotionally and physically. My wonderful fiance will be collecting my daughter and I can rest, after I take care of this and FMLA paperwork that is.  I apologize for the writing today. I didn't have the time to be overly creative. But while in the genetic meeting I did find the opportunity / window to plug my book and give away a business card.  That's what you get for seeing my email address and asking if I'm a writer.

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