If you're just catching up with me you'll want to start here to learn about my discovery of breast cancer, as well as why I am writing about my journey of breast cancer and for the time being a breast cancer blog.
Yesterday was my birthday and I spent part of it at the spa relaxing, getting a biopsy at 9 am for my lump and lumpiness that is behaving badly. I was told that I would hear on Friday, and I just got a call from my doctor that she has the results and can see me this afternoon - which means 24 hour turn around. My mind is racing and asking, is that a good thing or not?
So this whole damn process has been filled with anxiety of knowing nothing yet feeling like every one else does. And I had to admit that since I went to my doctor exactly two weeks ago to show her my lump I've felt like I want to throw up. As I sit here knowing that soon I will know, I know the anxiety and queasiness is from not knowing which reaffirms I am a concrete kind of gal.
With knowing I can be with the results and what would be even better is that I like the results. Of course the results I initially wanted to hear was it's a cyst, but that hasn't happened.
One week ago I had the mammogram, then they said let's have a ultra sound (kind of in the same tone as my girlfriends say, hey you want another glass of wine?) and I was told they wanted me to stay longer so the radiologist could come in.
The technician and radiologist kept looking at each other passing the secret codes that me, the average huh, what? kind of gal would be in the dark, but I simply felt like the third wheel. When I asked if he thought it was a cyst he said, some thing like it's hard to tell - know that I know what I know, I know that was bullshit and he knew it was a tumor.
Cause when I went in yesterday for the biopsy and complained that I feel like I am in the dark and asked if the doctor thought it was a cyst he said, absolutely not it's a tumor (and I'm hoping it's not that dreaded "m" word malignant and therefore breast cancer) and the biopsy is to see if it is benign or not. Of course they don't use the "M" word cause they know it will make you want to throw up right in their face as well as cry, scream and possibly throw things and that could damage the very expensive machines.
Instead during the procedure I not only cried, I sobbed because the second sample they took either hit a nerve or a bunch of tissue that was not numbed and the immediate hit of radiating pain brought immediate tears that I couldn't control or shut off. Plus I don't think that it helps that I'm raging PMS.
Now I know that if during the first sample you feel any thing, which I did, it's a sign that you need more anesthesia. Yea, I keep that in the memory banks.
The doctor and nurses felt badly, as they should, and apologized a bunch of times saying it was rare (great I get to be exceptional in a way that I don't want to be). They handed me gauze to wipe my tears because that was what was available in the room. I suppose that other womanly women getting a biopsy don't cry.
I also think that someone needs to invent another type of machine to take the sample. It sounded like a big staple gun each time they took a sample, but the jolting feeling my body had was the same feeling you have when some one is hiding around a corner and jumps out at you and you absolutely don't expect it. Now sandwich that with searing pain during the second take. Yep you got it.
Fortunately they gave me a whole bunch more anesthesia and the third sample, or was it actually the fourth time I only felt pressure and they could have kept digging.
I tried not to tell to many people because I love pain and being alone, I simply felt like I didn't have the energy to share and didn't want to jinx myself (superstitious yes) by talking about some thing that feels negative. But girlfriends and husbands do talk which I am grateful.
One of my dear friends sent me an email in a not so sober state after her company Christmas Party which ended with...
p.s. breasts are good, but your most beautiful beauteousness is definitely from inside and will radiate out, no matter what.
Yes, breasts are good and I realize how much I love them as they are. Tim of course has been amazing, and supportive.
Well off to watch Eli's Christmas Pageant where he plays the part as of the inn keeper that allows Mary and Joseph to use the stable and then head to the doctor to hear. (this picture was added after I originally posted).
My fingers are crossed that it's going to all be about nothing other than two weeks of anxiety released!
Michele
Deep Thought: Thank God for amazing girlfriends that stepped in to make my birthday dinner and Eli and his friend that helped make a cake!
The story of lumpiness behaving badly continues here.
Michele Corey, writing for Knee Deep Blog A dose on insight and a little crap from your not always average home based business and Internet mom and Money Wise Women: A Blog for Women that are ready to get their financial house in order
And of course I can't leave out the business: Advanced Approach
PS. Now you can find me simply by typing in http://www.kneedeepblog.com
What a bummer on your birthday. I hope it made you feel a little better to write about it. I know it always helps me when I have to go through a very unpleasant experience to have read about someone else (who I greatly admire) having gone through a similar ordeal. You write so well about it in kind of a funny, painful way.
Posted by: Cathy Farrar | December 21, 2007 at 09:19 AM