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[Update 8/2015: In hindsight, it was definitely a journey to getting diagnosed with breast cancer in 2008. Although I met with a lot of doctors, many of whom I have long since forgotten, I remember that everyone was very kind and extremely helpful during this early stage of the journey. I appreciate that so much. Not every patient has the good fortune of dealing with compassionate doctors and staff along the way. This insight into the specifics of learning that the lump I felt was cancerous will hopefully help another sista (or brother) realize that they are not alone on this journey.]
Second post of the blog... and it is a doozy
Okay... so after my boyfriend felt the lump too, I had to find a doctor and quick. Of course, with my new health insurance (that came with my new job) I needed to find a new doctor. And I couldn't find anyone who was accepting new patients.
I checked with my social group to see if any of those ladies had a recommendation -- nada. I checked with a few more people. Even went as far as to call my cousin in Georgia to get his input on a particular doctor here in DC. But... go figure... she too wasn't accepting new patients.
*sigh*
So, I called on one of my faithful best girlfriends and started wailing... she recommended her doctor highly. And naturally, I believed her because over the years I had heard her mention how much she liked Dr. K. I made my appointment for a physical for 2 weeks later. I felt good. I was being proactive.
Then... I got into the shower one day and my boobie looked BIGGER. Freaked me out. I went to work frantic, and I called Dr. K and asked if I could come in that day. Two hours later... another man told me that ... yes, there is a lump and I can feel it too.
Dr. K is a wonderful doctor. Very kind, very straight-forward and he listens. I wasn't looking for a male doctor but I was happy I found him. He felt I needed a diagnostic mammogram and sonogram right away. Right away turned out to be about 10 days later. So, I had to stumble through the 4th of July weekend as though nothing was on my mind -- even though I was a foggy mess.
I asked my boyfriend to take me to the radiologist (which I didn't even have to ask, he was planning to go all along). And I thank God that he was there. We were both pretty frantic. While Dr. K wasn't scary in his comments, he definitely made it clear that something was wrong and we needed to get everything checked out immediately.
At the first radiology center... I received my first mammogram and my first sonogram. Since I don't have children, I'd never been a witness to looking inside my own body through a machine and seeing something there. It is a very odd feeling. The mammograms were uncomfortable.
Mammograms are awful. There is nothing nice that I can say other than that. I have fairly large breasts so the fact that I was so very uncomfortable made me uneasy as I thought of my smaller chested friends. We've got to come up with something better. QUICKLY! Smashed body parts are unacceptable.
Why aren't any doctors accepting new patients?!
I checked with my social group to see if any of those ladies had a recommendation -- nada. I checked with a few more people. Even went as far as to call my cousin in Georgia to get his input on a particular doctor here in DC. But... go figure... she too wasn't accepting new patients.
*sigh*
Forever grateful for Dr. K
So, I called on one of my faithful best girlfriends and started wailing... she recommended her doctor highly. And naturally, I believed her because over the years I had heard her mention how much she liked Dr. K. I made my appointment for a physical for 2 weeks later. I felt good. I was being proactive.
Then... I got into the shower one day and my boobie looked BIGGER. Freaked me out. I went to work frantic, and I called Dr. K and asked if I could come in that day. Two hours later... another man told me that ... yes, there is a lump and I can feel it too.
Dr. K is a wonderful doctor. Very kind, very straight-forward and he listens. I wasn't looking for a male doctor but I was happy I found him. He felt I needed a diagnostic mammogram and sonogram right away. Right away turned out to be about 10 days later. So, I had to stumble through the 4th of July weekend as though nothing was on my mind -- even though I was a foggy mess.
I asked my boyfriend to take me to the radiologist (which I didn't even have to ask, he was planning to go all along). And I thank God that he was there. We were both pretty frantic. While Dr. K wasn't scary in his comments, he definitely made it clear that something was wrong and we needed to get everything checked out immediately.
Wait... a mammogram? I'm not 40 yet!
At the first radiology center... I received my first mammogram and my first sonogram. Since I don't have children, I'd never been a witness to looking inside my own body through a machine and seeing something there. It is a very odd feeling. The mammograms were uncomfortable.
Can anyone build a machine that doesn't have to mash your breasts against inflexible plates while you stand with your arms contorted behind you as you don't breathe? (it messes up the film -- I breathed twice, now I know its a no-no)
Mammograms are awful. There is nothing nice that I can say other than that. I have fairly large breasts so the fact that I was so very uncomfortable made me uneasy as I thought of my smaller chested friends. We've got to come up with something better. QUICKLY! Smashed body parts are unacceptable.
Freddie shows up for the camera
I was amazed watching the sonogram. It was amazing looking at the inside of my boobie. The images reminded me of the ocean... and then suddenly there was this black "thing" floating in my sea. The lump didn't have a name until I saw him on camera. Suddenly, the tune from "SuperFly" started playing in my head....
"Freddie's dead...
That's what I said.... "
So right at that moment, I named the primary tumor Freddy. Honestly, 'cause I wanted Freddy to die. One of us had to go... and it wasn't going to be me.
I left the office stunned. I could barely speak. I barely heard the radiologist's comments about the mammogram results and the sonogram. But I do recall that she said something about cancer. She was concerned with the size, she was concerned with some microcalcifications... but all the rest is a blur. My boyfriend claimed that he understood what she said. But I really didn't.
Cancer? Me?!
We left... I called my mom when we got outside and then we went to lunch. At the time, I felt fine. I wasn't upset, just blank. By the time we pulled up to the restaurant, we both were sobbing. Well, I was sobbing, he was just misty. (We know that men don't cry)
We had just started dating. Just started thinking about a future... maybe kids, a house in the city -- not the suburbs... and now we had to step back and think about cancer, surgery, maybe more. It seemed wild and outrageous. But that's where we were.
I called Dr. K the next day -- he was a little frantic with me. He had spoken to the radiologist and felt I needed to see a surgeon right away to discuss options and lumpectomies. He gave me the name and number of a surgeon he highly recommended and I tried to make that appointment. As God worked it out, that surgeon was on vacation so I was assigned to another surgeon in the office, Dr. Lee.
Dr. Lee... finally someone who may understand how I felt
I felt good. A woman doctor was what I wanted. Unfortunately... I couldn't get in to see Dr. Lee for another 12 days. When we finally met -- I was a basket case. I took my mother this time. Dr. Lee was supposed to give me a biopsy (small needle) in the office that day -- which is why I brought reinforcements. However, after she examined me -- she determined that I needed more radiology and a different type of biopsy. A core needle biopsy (big needle).
Dr. Lee really knows what I'm going through. She is about my age and a breast cancer survivor as well. But of course, she was going on vacation right after my appointment. (bummer) Her office got me an immediate appointment (like 7:30 am the next day) at a different radiology center. There I got my first MRI and another mammogram.
The MRI was painless. I just laid down on a table, put my boobies in some holes/cups thru the table and was pushed into this big machine. *shrug* I listened to the radio while I was in there but that was it. I could feel something warm on my skin -- and I vaguely recall being injected with something that tasted like metallic salt water in my nose.
How do you function with news like this rattling around your brain?
I had not slept at all the night after my visit with Dr. Lee which was the night before the MRI. I had to go home afterward, just to sleep. The not knowing and the anticipation for each appointment was really killing me. Things were moving rapidly and slowly at the same time. If it wasn't DC in the summer, it probably really would have gone too fast for me to understand and comprehend. As it was... the wait between appointments (about a week) gave me just enough time to digest what was happening and what people were telling me about my body.
The core biopsy was rather upsetting. First, they wouldn't allow my boyfriend to come back into the room with me. I really needed him there. Second, the room was hot and uncomfortable. Third, this time, watching the sonogram wasn't fun at all. I couldn't feel it but watching a really long needle going into and out of your breast is unsettling to say the least.
Did I mention Ted?
I did learn/see that Freddie had a small buddy near by. I named him Ted. Since he was like a mini-version of Freddie. This time... it was "Fred and Ted's excellent adventure" even though I know that wasn't the name of the movie... that's what played in my head when I saw the little lump beside the bigger one.
When the procedure was done, Dr. P (he gave me the biopsy) explained to me what he saw on the MRI and how he and some of his colleagues were very concerned (I have heard that word more times than I can count now... it has become a scary word for me) about my prognosis for cancer.
Sick of hearing "very concerned"... just tell me what is going on.
At this point, I'm at my 5th appointment in a two and a half/three week period, seeing my 4th doctor and I am TOTALLY freaked out. My blood pressure had to be through the roof because all I kept hearing was "cancer" and "very concerned". My family was already stressed out -- like I said, my dad just had an aneurysm Memorial Day weekend. And now... every few days another doctor is saying... "we're very concerned" with what is showing up on the film.
Anyway... back to Dr. Lee (by phone)... because now I'm frantic to know what the heck is going on. Of course, I can't reach her because she's on vacation and she never picks up her phone. Ugh. Dr. P told me that he would call me as soon as the results of the pathology report came back from Georgetown Hospital -- probably in 3 days.
Two days later... news I didn't want.
He called me in two. Early in the morning. Like 9:00 am.
Scary.
I am sitting at work, choked up with tears... listening to this kind man say that the pathology reports show that my Freddie is cancerous. He tells me to get in touch with Dr. Lee immediately and that he would be trying to reach her as well... I finally get her on Friday. I talked to Dr. P on Wednesday. I took Friday off from work as a vacation day because I was simply fried.
Just NUMB
I could not do little things like remember to tie my shoes. Or remember to bring suitable work shoes with me to the office. I was walking through water... I could sort of hear sounds but I couldn't make out what people were saying to me.
I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer. I have cancer.
That's all I hear and see. I start looking at the whole world with the eyes of a dying woman. I try to take in everything -- even though so much doesn't make sense. People start flooding my memory that I haven't talked to in years. I start feeling frantic... I need a will, nah I don't. How can I prepare my parents for a life without me? How can I convince everyone that I'm okay even when I'm not?
I was a total mess for quite a few days. I told people around me, told my email groups, my family (finally) and my friends... and I tried to accept all the good wishes and thoughts that folks sent my way. I tried. But after I told it -- I wanted to hide and just rest in my boyfriend's arms in silence. That's all that I thought would make me feel better. Someone who loved me, holding me tightly, reminding me that right now, I'm still here. No words were necessary to convey that feeling... but words were what I received.
Sigh.
Well... now the journey starts
The hardest part so far has been listening to people tell me the stories about people in their lives who have either had breast cancer, or some other sort of cancer -- and now they are fine!
Those well-intentioned stories offered me no comfort at all. Which I know is the opposite effect that the story-tellers wanted. But it was hard to be encouraged when I know, all it takes is one person to be the exception to a rule... and I could easily be that exception.
Remember... "very concerned" has come out of the mouth of every doctor that I spoke to.
.... Dr. Lee conferred with a few more doctors after she returned from her vacation and sent me to another radiology appointment to have a biopsy of my lymph nodes. From her review... there were more tumors that were of deep concern. One was on my chest wall (or very close to it) and of course, since my boobies are so large, it could not be biopsied with a needle. It would have to be surgically biopsied. And that presented a problem because the first tumor is close to my skin and positioned close to my nipple. All of that meant...
If she were to remove those tumors surgically... there might not be much breast left to save.
Remember... "very concerned" has come out of the mouth of every doctor that I spoke to.
What does it mean? Am I dying or not?
.... Dr. Lee conferred with a few more doctors after she returned from her vacation and sent me to another radiology appointment to have a biopsy of my lymph nodes. From her review... there were more tumors that were of deep concern. One was on my chest wall (or very close to it) and of course, since my boobies are so large, it could not be biopsied with a needle. It would have to be surgically biopsied. And that presented a problem because the first tumor is close to my skin and positioned close to my nipple. All of that meant...
If she were to remove those tumors surgically... there might not be much breast left to save.
No boobie? Or no nipple? What is that???
I was devastated. As I said before... my boobies aren't the ones I probably would have picked off a shelf but I had grown comfortable with having them and I wasn't really ready to get rid of them. It wasn't going to work (in my mind) that I would have my breast removed and then replaced with a fake.
????
Hey sistagirl, Dr. R!
Washington Radiology was booked so Dr. Lee arranged for me to meet with Dr. R of GW Hospital. She was an awesome sistagirl doctor. :) That made me very happy. I watched another tech sonogram my body... and this time I was better prepared for the mass that showed up in my ocean. The third lump is named Jim. As in "dammit Jim... I am only a doctor" (from Star Trek).
As soon as I saw that dark mass, I said to myself... "dammit Jim"... and that was the name.
The biopsy this time was more painful... or rather... it seemed more invasive. I was laying in an uncomfortable position, the machine was larger and louder that the first one... This was no longer an entertaining adventure. Dr. R was wonderful -- just like all the other doctors had been... though I could not imagine being more worried or upset... I was. My visit on Thursday with Dr. R wouldn't result in answers about cancer until Tuesday. So I did my best to smile and not worry until Tuesday morning.
I spoke to Dr. Lee on Tuesday instead of going back to GW to pick up my results as they had suggested. We chatted for awhile, and she told me that yes, indeed the tumor in my lymph node was cancerous too. This meant that the cancer had migrated... and it could be likely that the cancer is spreading or has spread to other organs. I asked her the stage and she said either 2B or 3A. She switched to 2B (in my memory) after it seemed that I was stuck at 3A. Either way... it might be bad now.
.... more to come.
