The Beginning

Things were going a little too well.  You know that feeling?  When you have had your share of hits and stresses and downfalls, but the "good" is so clearly outweighing the bad that you think the other foot MUST be dropping soon.

I literally had this thought, weeks before my life changed. Our lives changed.  I thought...everything was falling in line with selling our home and building a new one; family, work, and seemingly all things were going so well that something HAD to be in the pipeline.

I claim not to be a superstitious person...as I side step black cats in my path, and walk around ladders, and hold my breath when I pass cemeteries.  The usual.  "Habit," we'll say.  But I have always felt adamantly against odd years/odd year birthdays.  No notable achievements happened in an odd year.  I was born in an even year. Both of my kids were born in even years.  I got married in an even year. I graduated from undergrad AND law school in even years, which only happened because I took a gap year in between the two.  I met my husband in an even year.  I got my current job in an even year.

So clearly I wasn't anxious to ring in 2019. Blah.  But things were really soaring nonetheless, until they weren't.  I was traveling for work.  It was the second trip in a two week span, and I was tired yet happy.  I flopped on the bed between meetings and dinner, and felt a soreness in my left breast.  I felt in that spot, and felt a lump.

Everything in me said "cancerous lumps aren't typically sore."  But it is still so nerve-wracking to feel a lump. I called my OB's office and got in for the next day, shortly after landing.  Dr Johnson said, "this doesn't scare me.  I suspect it is a cyst, but let's get you in for a mammogram and ultrasound."  She told me if I was going to be freaking out, googling, and ordering wigs, I should schedule right away. But generally I should be fine to get in when I fit in.  I waited a couple weeks, because it seemed like it was resolving.  But I like to rule things out, so I made the appointment and kept it.

They did the first round of mammogram images, and sent me to the waiting room.  Then they called me back for a second round, and this time did tighter images at the spot of the lump...but also got tighter images on the outer edge of the same breast.  They sent me back to the waiting room, and then called me back for a third round on the same spots.  At this point, I was tearing up.  Surely if everything was fine, I wouldn't need so many pictures to confirm.

I went in for the ultrasound, and the radiologist took her time scanning both areas.  She then said: "the area you came in for is completely resolved.  There is nothing there.  But you have two dense and irregular shaped masses along the outer edge of that breast, that do not look normal.  I'm going to send you for a biopsy."

The wait before the biopsy appointment was agonizing.  But not as agonizing as the biopsies!  For some reason, I have a very difficult time getting numb from lidocaine or novocaine.  Dental fillings are horrific experiences.  I explained this going in, and they did a decent job of numbing for the first mass.  The "core needle" biopsies required a small incision, and then the doctor inserted the biopsy needle into the incision, and guided by ultrasound, found the mass and took 3 samples.  The "punching" of the core needle device is really unnerving, because it literally sounds like an industrial strength stapler, punching out the tissue.  It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable.  But then she numbed the second mass and went right in.  It was not numb.  It was positively excruciating as I sobbed on the table.  There was a miscommunication between the doctor and assistant, where the doctor thought she was being topped up with 10mg of lidocaine, but it was actually 5mg.  So when the doctor thought I was at max numbing medication, she could have given me more.  I made it through, but to say it was a traumatic experience is an understatement.

It took me weeks to heal from the biopsies, and I still have scar tissue there.  It took five days to get the biopsy results back, and I got the call as we were doing the final walk through of the home we had just built and would be closing on two days later.

Real-time notes from "the call."
The doctor made small talk.  I noted that she was calling me from vacation, and she chatted about how both radiologists were on vacation that week, so she took the call.  And then she jumped into it head first: "So we got the results of the biopsies back.  And both came back positive for cancer."

My breath caught.  "What?" I asked.  "I know...I'm surprised, too."  She said.  Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, she said.  It means the cancer started in a milk duct and grew out of the milk duct.  The biopsy didn't show any signs of "lymphovascular invasion," meaning it didn't appear to be in my lymph nodes.  She said the most common causes of breast cancer are "Being a woman and aging." She rattled off the things I have going for me, that I did nothing to "cause it," and at the end said: "You're going to be fine."

The more in depth pathology showed that I am positive for both hormone receptors: estrogen, and progesterone.  And I'm also positive for the HER2-neu protein, which apparently is present in only 15% of cancer patients.  HER2 causes masses to grow more aggressively than others, and means automatic chemotherapy and antibody therapy.

Getting through the next few days was challenging.  Packing. Closing on the house.  Calling oncologists to get in for a consult.  Moving.  Scheduling and attending the MRI.

Appointments
Scans
Phone calls
Boxes
Recovery
Parenting
Working
Staying positive

Rinse and repeat.

I'm going to be fine.







Tumor 1 Pathology
Tumor 2 Pathology

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