I'd buy it-a video of you traveling through the process of suspected concern to diagnosis. And, I'd buy it for all my sisters, biological and otherwise.
You could even change the vehicle to, you know, like a hummer limo (I'd suggest leopard-print pink, of course), instead of a school bus. And, you could take us on a journey from lump "finding," to breast biopsy, to understanding different types of tumors, to breast cancer, and what that means for ladies (and maybe even for some men).
'Cause, I could have used something like that in the month of October.
That is all,
Sheila
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I found a lump in the month of October. That was after the crappy month of September was over, obviously.
I went to my gynecologist expecting her to say,"Great job! No worries, it is just fibrocystic breast disease."
Nah, I got a quick ticket to a Breast Center for a mammogram. Except it also comes with a sonogram.
It is quite amazing the science you learn when you go through this (and the Breast Center had REAL gowns, not those stupid, scratchy paper ones that let the wind blow up your bum). I learned more about mammography as I went through my first mammogram. They had to get several pictures, use several different sized "plates" until they realized that they also wanted a sonogram. And, I was able to meet the radiologist. (I thought that was the coolest! Usually the radiologist is a faceless someone who sends a report to the doctor and then sends you a bill.)
The tone of conversation there goes from,"oh, this is really routine, once you turn 40 you come and get a mammogram done every year . . ."
(Okay, seriously, EVERY year after 40.)
Then it turns to,"So, did you discover the lump or did your physician? Have you ever had a lump before?"
To, the radiologist coming in and describing what was seen. A tumor. Not just fibrocystic tissue. Crap.
Then lots of questions from me . . . what kind of tumor, how large, does it affect breast feeding, how can it be removed, how long does it take to get results, what kind of tumor do you think again, how can they tell between the types of tumors you think it might be, how do you spell that, if it is benign: will it just live in me like a guest? And on, and on.
The radiologist was great.
I was referred to a Breast Surgeon.
On the way home, I kept hearing ads on the radio about the best research facility, the best and newest procedures, the best . . . all about breast cancer, because it was BREAST CANCER AWARENESS month. A couple of times, I almost turned the car around and went straight to the research clinic that was being advertised right in that moment.
The emotional aspect to this aside, there is also the insurance aspect, and the physician availability aspect.
You wait for your doctor to get the report from the radiologist. You get your referral for the breast surgeon and your physician says, "you need to see the doctor within one week. Call me back immediately if you can't get an appointment." ACK! Insurance authorizations, get help from the doctor in finding a surgeon that will open up a spot for you, find care for your kids, and your boob is hurting from all that poking and prodding.
BTW, the mammogram wasn't bad. I was sore because of the tumor. Which, from this point on in my life, I refer to as The Pirate.
In the middle of all this, I kind of think it will be okay because no one in my family has had breast cancer. Then, I find out I am wrong. My grandma had breast cancer. (at which point I start counting with my fingers all the "indicators" for having a higher risk of being diagnosed with breast cancer, tell you, the emotional part of this journey is hard)
I receive a blessing in the middle of this that encourages me to keep up my sense of humor, that I will be okay at the end of this long trial.
So, The Pirate and I go to the Breast Surgeon for a biopsy.
Wonderful women help me take care of my children. Those women called and volunteered. I did not have to go through the "black book" of babysitters. Wonderful women called to check on me and knew somehow that they were needed.
It allowed my great husband to come along for support.
Biopsy: where they take tissue out. My tissue samples were put in paraffin and sliced into pieces for testing. The Breast Surgeon took a lot of tissue from The Pirate. I wore two sports bras for a week to help prevent swelling and bruising. I turned all sorts of colors, seriously. Though the doctor did numb me, because of the location of The Pirate, it hurt.
Results were ready within a week, I was sore for that week. I was surprised at how sore and how much it affected what I could do physically. "So, instead of picking up your son. Ask him nicely to come over to you and you can sit down beside him." Bbbwwwaaahhhhhh!!!!!!! At least the nurse was well meaning.
I have sat in many, many waiting rooms. Some of the most nerve racking waiting rooms out there. Sitting in the waiting room at the Breast Surgeons office did. not. compare. Anxiety.
The end result, the biopsy "of the tissue that was removed" is benign. Send off the flares and release the balloons!
However, The Pirate is nestled into a part of the breast that causes concern. Most tumors in that location do become malignant, and, Dear Readers: realize that the tissue that was removed was benign, The Pirate is still there, or here. (some cancer cells can hide behind tissue, when that was described to me, made the whole image of cancer cells caricaturely evil)
The Breast Surgeon said that she could remove The Pirate soon or wait and check on it in a few weeks once the inflammation from the biopsy has settled.
sigh.
So, I set a sonogram appointment for six weeks, weeks which are mostly gone by now. Will see the Breast Surgeon again. And, see how much it has grown and whether to operate in December or just keep checking on it.
BTW, two weeks after the biopsy, severe pain came for a visit. Inflammation, scar tissue development, nerve damage, and a hematoma the size of a plum. (Not all people experience this type of pain after the biopsy.) Thought I was going to die and needed morphine, STAT. That week was harder than the week of the biopsy. I will never elect for cosmetic plastic surgery because evidently I will probably experience that pain again.
The good news: I am healing well from the biopsy. Maybe a few more weeks (maybe months) before everything is cleared up and the nerve damage is repaired. But, I don't hurt. thank. goodness.
My gynecologist is ready for me to remove The Pirate. She doesn't like it.
And, along with doctors that are conscientious and care for me: I have a really wonderful set of friends and family. Friends and family who prayed for my family. Friends who were willing to watch my active boys. Friends and family who checked on me. (and some of those friends didn't even know what was going on . . . they just felt they needed to see how life was going for me) Friends who made sure we had meals. I love friends and family.
BTW, *I* discovered The Pirate through a monthly breast exam.
