In The Beginning...

Tell Your Story

Saw that, heard that.  Okay.  This is a story about my right breast and recent diagnosis of Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The three words you don't want to hear that will change your life forever.  Wait, shouldn't there be like a prologue or something?  Something about my very first mammogram in December of '94 when the radiologist said "there's a very large mass in your right breast right up against your chest wall."  I'm not kidding- I giggled, then I laughed.  Really.  It's immaterial but there were other things going on in my life that kept smacking me in the head and this was a final blow.  I said "of course there is."  At that time they prepared you for the worst possible scenario and scare the heck out of you.  My sister came up to take care of me just in case.  Oh the drama.  What was removed was benign.  Moving on.

Over the last 4 years there have been, again in the right breast, calcifications and a Stereotactic Biopsy, boy, that was fun!  A lump that vanished, and then, here it comes... in April of this year I woke up to a massively painful breast!  I mean I couldn't stand my shirt, or my own hand to even touch!  In hindsight this was the first signal that something was very wrong.  I called my doctor "I think I have mastitis!!!" Went in and yes, looked like mastitis, went on antibiotics and felt somewhat better a couple of days later.  My yearly doctor visit was two weeks later and though I hadn't noticed any lingering discomfort myself, when she went to examine my breast... let's just say it was lift-off, right off the table!  She saw a blush on my breast and the oddest thing... the areola was fading in color.  Get thee to a mammogram!

So fuck that.  I couldn't do it.  Too much pain.  My doc sent me instead to a breast specialist in Tacoma who also happens to be a breast surgeon.  After a lengthy history she still needed a diagnostic mammogram and I had to bite the bullet!  It was the first time I had been to the Carol Milgard Breast Center.  It's like a little spa, warm reassuring staff, women running around in white robes.  Coffee, cocoa, tea.  When I went in I held both my tech's hands in mine and looked steadily into her eyes (demanding direct attention).  "My right breast is really painful, I'm really scared.  I need you to take your time and be oh so gentle with me."  I could not have asked for a more compassionate person to take care of me.  She was amusing too, repeatedly saying throughout "comme ci, comme ca."

They found "something."  This was followed up with an immediate ultrasound.  Yep, something.  

Next: another doctor visit to go over those results and then schedule a biopsy.

The Biopsy

Mental Flow  (somehow this got lost so added it here)

I started my blog last night because I hadn't slept more than 2 hours collectively on Sunday and Monday nights.  I was wound the last 3 days, hyper.  Possibly hit some level of anxiety because during the days I've been having palpitations... that I shouldn't be based on the very slim use of caffeine in my life currently, plus I take a beta-blocker so... what the...  Anyway, my mind has been awake and making huge leaps in thought.  I decided it was time to write the story... and as a friend said- "Anything that quiets the chatter is way good."  It just flowed out, a good portion of this one too.  Oh, did I mention I slept like a baby last night?  'nuff said.

I should have mentioned that during that first visit to the specialist, my doctor didn't really think there was going to be anything wrong.  I had breast pain and was told some women just have some breast pain.  True enough, I have even known some.  Going off caffeine and chocolate was first on the list and should make some difference.  I was okay with going off the chocolate, but coffee... tea... (grumble, grumble)  What I really liked about this doctor was her suggestion to add Vitamin E and Evening Primrose Oil to my daily regimen.  We also went through the "Breast Cancer Risk Assessment Tool" together that can be found at:  http:www.cancer.gov/bcrisktool/  I should add we did it 3 times because she was surprised I was at 18%, thought it higher than it should have been.  In the end we agreed it was probably ethnicity and prior biopsies. 

There I was back at the breast center having had the mammo and ultrasound; this time for the biopsy.  I had the same tech and doctor who did the ultrasound the week before.  As biopsies go it really wasn't too bad, the worst being the numbing fluid going in and that lasts... oh... maybe 2 seconds.  This is a fairly quick procedure.  Pac-Man taking bites.  The tech was a beautiful young woman whose mom went through breast cancer surgery and treatment five years ago and had the same doctor I did.  We were in agreement there should be music in the room for this procedure!  Distraction can be a useful tool sometimes.  The surprise came at the end when I squirted blood out everywhere as they removed the biopsy tube.  Warm, red shower... on everyone!  Most unexpected! My lovely tech had to apply pressure for 15 minutes.  The result of that was a hematoma, or as I heard a doctor once say many years ago- "a hema-tomato."  It lasted right up to the surgery.

Back to the specialist for results:  Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.  They had biopsied the tumor and surrounding tissue- all came back positive.  Okay.  Alright.  I tried my very best to take a breath/or/not hyperventilate, I can't remember which it was, possibly both.  I found myself in this strange altered state the rest of the day, like I was under water... kind of sensorily blunted.  

The Plan:  next stop surgery and then radiation.  "We're going to take the tumor, some of surrounding tissue; we're also going to do some nuclear imaging of the sentinel and other lymph nodes.  We'll do more biopsies on everything we remove.  You may or may not need chemo, you'll see an Oncologist who will determine that.  Looks like Stage 2 right now."  Folks- I hesitate to tell you what that nuclear imaging consists of; but oh no... I will not spare you when the time comes.  You might want to wear a mouth guard though.  Tacoma to Aberdeen with tears off and on.  Schneikies!

I want to add here that such a scary diagnosis brings up a lot of fears- how am I going to deal with this and work?  Am I going to lose my job?  Do I have enough sick time?  How on earth and I going to figure out some kind of income while this is happening?  Will I go to debtors prison or just plain prison (they don't have debtors prisons anymore do they?  I don't think so... still... the thought was there)  I'm going to paying through the nose the rest of my life.  I have said many times in my life to many different groups- most of us are one or two paychecks away from financial disaster.  Tragic to know what you're facing and have to think about this stuff.  Right now this very minute I'm looking at thousands of dollars... okay, let's NOT think about that.  Give me the forms I'll sign them.  What else can you do?  Times have changed and outcomes/survival rates are improved; with that in mind the very biggest fear is still... that it's completely possible that there won't even be much of a future.  I know, I know, don't be a Debbie Downer... I'm not focused on that, really.  Alas, it is a possibility.  Okay, let's NOT think about that one either!

I have to say that when I told the management team where I work what was happening they were nothing but completely supportive and wanted me to focus on getting healthy.  We'll figure it all out.  That is something.

Next up:  Surgery Day & Significant Others