My Thoughts on Breast Cancer

I just wanted to share some of my random thoughts lately, especially on the subject of Breast Cancer, which really stinks.

October 2012 I found a lump in my left breast, not any more unusual than the other 5 lumps that I have found and had biopsied over the course of 30 plus years. I was due for a mammogram anyway, so I scheduled one for the following weeks. Since there was actually a lump found, a sonogram was scheduled at the same time. The mammogram couldn't see anything, even when they concentrated in the area of the lump, so they went ahead with the sonogram. Of course, it was "suspicious", like they ALL are, and the doctors wanted to do a biopsy the following week. Like I said, I have had 5 other negative biopsies and the thought that it could be positive never even entered my mind. I went through the motions because that is what you do. You get a biopsy. You suck it up and let the doctors do their job. They get paid big bucks for making sure you don't have cancer.

I was at a funeral for Craig's childhood friend when I saw that I had a missed call. The message asked me to call the nurse back so we could discuss the results. I thought maybe something was wrong because she would have just stated that the biopsy was negative and that she would see me in a few years. As soon as I had a minute, I called her and she informed over the phone that I had breast cancer. I laughed. She told me that I could say, "Well, shoot! That stinks!" but I couldn't. I just laughed. It was ridiculous. Just a lump. OK. Well, now what? She was very helpful and made an appointment for me to see the oncology surgeon in about a week and a half. It was Thanksgiving week and it was difficult to make an appointment immediately. Then we sat, and waited...

Telling everyone I knew seemed like the logical thing to do. Only thing is, I couldn't tell anyone with a straight face. They all thought I was joking. Nope. Just sounds stupid saying it out loud. You know, they mis-diagnose things like this all the time. Its all a mistake. Maybe I need a second opinion.

Getting to the oncology surgeon seemed like a lifetime and I was looking forward to getting some answers, like mastectomy? lumpectomy? stage? prognosis? But no. The surgeon gave me no answers. He gave me info about mastectomies and lumpectomies and sent me home to decide for myself. Wait. I can't make that decision. That's up to the experts to decide. The surgeon sent me to a plastic surgeon and then to a radiation oncologist. I did a lot of reading and thinking and changing my mind until I decided that I wanted to have a left mastectomy and then have both breasts reconstructed. And that's when I sat down and cried. It's becoming a reality. But then I think tummy tuck!! Yeh!

Nope.

Plastic surgeon says they don't take fat from your tummy anymore. They take a big ol' muscle out of your back and bring it around front to make a breast. SERIOUSLY?!? Do you not know what I do for a living?!? I don't have time for all this! I lift, tug, pull, and yank on BIG kids all day long. If not me, then who's going to take care of them? UGH!!!

Ok. So I've decided to do the mastectomy with reconstruction. Well, that complicates things. Now I have to get the sentinel nodes biopsied first so that extra nodes can be removed before reconstruction if there are any more that are positive. Great. Now I'm going for a "simple" day surgery at Baylor in Dallas.

I wake up to NO feeling in my arm, back, chest and even the back of my head! I mention that its all numb. "Oh yes, honey. That's normal." Wait. NO FEELING? At ALL? I didn't sign up for that. UGH!!!

Now, a few days later, I get another call from the surgeon. Four out of five lymph nodes are positive. Well, there's my second opinion. And now I will need to take chemo AND radiation. And I can't have the reconstruction surgery until after radiation so they're going to just use a tissue expander with saline and wait until after radiation to use the muscle in the back. UGH! Off to the mastectomy I go the day after Christmas, not very confident in my decision of complete removal of the breast along with all the remaining lymph nodes.

And the "Bye-bye Boobie" cake was priceless! One little way of poking fun at a full-blown nightmare.

Oh yeh, and the second biopsy showed 3 more nodes involved for a total of seven nodes. And now I'm a stage 3. Stage 3? That's like a 50% chance of survival. That stinks.

Off to the medical oncologist I go not expecting many new answers or help. But she says, "No. You don't have stage 3. You are only a stage 2a. You only have the three nodes involved." Well, THAT'S a BIG difference! 85% chance of survival is a whole lot better than 50%. Ok. I can do this!

But wait. Why was I told I was a stage 3? I called the surgeon's office kinda ticked about the whole thing. She brought up my reports and told me that she wished that she was wrong, but her records were correct. I was indeed a stage 3. Ok, now what? Each office is arguing that they are right. The nurse at the oncologist actually said to me, "Dr. Blum is the expert in her field. Who are you going to believe?" Wait. Believe? I don't want to just CHOOSE who to believe! I just need the truth! Ok. Well, after I asked each of the offices to talk with each other and to come to a consensus, the surgeon's office finally agreed that they had read the pathology report wrong and that, yes, I was a stage 2a. Finally! Some good news.

Alright. So I need to let my body heal from the mastectomy before starting chemo. And, yes! I will volunteer to be in a study to help future breast cancer victims. Its the least I can do. Chemo count down: 1 month, Feb. 4th.

Lots of tests to do before chemo. Labs, echocardiogram, bone scan, MRI of the abdomen, spine, installation of a chemo port, etc. That's three surgeries in the last month and I'm starting to have some gas pains now that are quite debilitating. I mention them to the oncologist and she checks the MRI that was just done. Diverticulitis. She puts me on 2 antibiotics and on a clear liquid diet. WRONG combination. I vomited the whole day. When I reported that I was vomiting, they instructed me to go to the nearest emergency room, that my bowels may have ruptured. Seriously? I'm on antibiotics and clear liquids. I ate some crackers and felt fine. That's the first time I have ever disobeyed a direct order from a doctor.

Well, Feb. 4th finally rolls around and I'm thinking I'm getting chemo. I've got myself all worked up, nightmares and all. But the doctor says, "no." We have to have at least 4 weeks without antibiotics to make sure the diverticulitis is gone. Chemo can make the diverticulitis much worse and there is a real possibility of a bowel rupture. Dang. More waiting. And by the way, you no longer qualify for the study because the window is gone. Dang again.

So I head back to the plastic surgeon who's going to make me into a beautiful lady with 20-year-old boobs. Its time to expand the breast with saline. But my tissue expander is contracted and he can't insert any more saline. It would just start coming out the top of the breast. And he says that would look funny. Does he see what I look like now? Could anything look worse? I'm serious. And its only going to get worse with radiation. More dangs.

Alright. March 4th is starting to roll around and I had one more bout of diverticulitis. I called the doctor and they want me to see the gastroenterologist, of course. So I'm thinking no chemo until I get his blessing. But she looks me in the eye and says, "But I think we need to get started on your treatment." OK. I'm at the doctor's office without anyone for support getting chemo that I thought for sure I wouldn't receive today. Thank you, Bethany, for taking off work immediately and being with me. I thought I was going to be OK but then nearly blacked out from panic when they started giving it to me.

It was poison. Pure, unadulterated poison. Actually a derivative of Mustard Gas. What was I doing to my body?!? It was fine 2 months ago! And now I'm killing it. This seems so darned barbaric to me.

And now I'm a week post-first-chemo. I was extremely nauseated, enough that I had to sleep with the garbage can the first night. UGH! BAD!!! And I slept the whole first week. I couldn't function like everyone said I would be able to after the first treatment. I was actually surprised that I couldn't function any better. I was always asleep on the couch. Yesterday was the first day I actually stayed up all day without a nap.

And now I only have 6 more days before my next treatment. UGH! I don't think I can do it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. And did I mention, I hate it? I don't have any choices. I have permanently mutilated my body. I don't have the strength in my hands to open things any more. My left breast constantly hurts. It feels like I have a bag of rocks under my skin. I have 7 more rounds of poison, I mean chemo, to tolerate and I'm starting to feel sorry for myself. Nothing tastes like it should. And my scalp hurts. In preparation of losing my hair. Another dang. Intellectually, I understand this is all necessary. But dang. It really stinks.