4. The one with a biopsy

Last week we left off with my mammogram results delivered via e-chart. 

Assume in the immediate aftermath of that information, I went back to my trusted medical source Doctor Google. Here is what he had to say:

The most significant features that indicate whether a mass is benign or malignant are its shape and margins (Figure 36f-4). The shape can be round, oval, lobular, or irregular. Circumscribed oval and round masses are usually benign. An irregular shape suggests a greater likelihood of malignancy.

Oh shit

.

I really started to feel sorry for myself, and that is not usually I spot where I spend much time. But damn, I had gone through a divorce (not pleasant, IYKYK), sold our house of 17 years, moved out on my own for the first time since my 20s.

And had started to lose weight and find myself. I had dared to open the door to the next chapter, peer around the corner (all the puppies and rainbows and bad decisions that await!!) and promptly had the door slammed in my face.

This all happened on a Thursday.

The next day I had an appointment with a person I have a trusted connection with. 

As the saying goes people come into your life for a season, a reason or a lifetime.

Turns out this person had been here all along for a specific reason.

She had seen me go through all of the above and more.

We are both people who have seen some shit and recognized that in each other early on. We belong to the same shitty clubs and while that can be hard for someone to understand, it made us bond rather quickly.

So when I saw her she could tell I was visibly upset. At this point, I hadn't told anyone. But in that moment I knew I could tell her. So I did.

And she kept doing what she was doing, and in a very conversational tone she said

"I have cancer" 

Ummm... what?? I have known her for years and years. And I had no idea.

She explained that it wasn't something she shared with people, she was very private about it.  And we spent the rest of our time together with her explaining all she learned on her own journey.

She explained that my health was within my control, if I didn't like a doctor or a diagnosis to go get a second opinion. She told me to make absolutely sure the health care providers were giving me what I needed: information, communication, guidance, etc

We live in a part of the world with access to the best doctors and health facilities, I didn't need to be uncomfortable on this journey when there were wonderful healthcare workers just down the road.

She also told me why no one really knew. That her experience with telling people did not turn out the way one might think. 

People get weird when you use the C word. Some people stopped talking to her, made it about themselves or provided unsolicited advice and criticized the decisions she made. 

It was then I decided until I felt comfortable with having to contend with any of that, it was going to be something I only shared with my immediate circle. I am a private person for the most part (it has taken a year for me to get here) and if I tell someone something of this nature, I have a responsibility to keep them informed.

Knowing who I planned to tell, I felt guilty.

 These are the same people who had just nursed me through some emotional damage that I hadn't healed from. 

The last thing I wanted to do was lean on them again with this. But I knew they would have my back and they did (entire post on that to come).

But my immediate concern was having to tell my mom. 

This was what kept me up that night and the night before. 

I did NOT want to tell her. 

Because if I have seen some shit, double that, and then double it again and you might start to understand what she has experienced. 

She has been to hell and back many times and at that point was taking care of my dad with his second battle with cancer in two years (it came back quicker, stronger and required more aggressive treatment).

How in the hell was I going to tell her I might have cancer? FFS my dad, Josh and I are her people, and the thought of her having to care for two of us (at the expense of her own health most likely) was not fair. 

It is way worse to be the person watching than the one going through it. 

If you are walking through the thing (the death, the disease, the bad relationship) you feel it fully and know what that is like. 

If you are outside looking in at your loved one you can only imagine. Assume that it is always not as bad as what the person is actually feeling (at least for me).

I spent some time trying to talk myself into the fact that maybe I didn't have to tell her. I could wait because maybe it was nothing, no need to worry her needlessly. 

But all the information I had after many, many google searches and dives down rabbit holes, told me it was going to be something.

And if I didn't tell her and she found out.... WOOF. 

My mom is a wonderful woman, and everyone who meets her sees that. 

But you have never experienced the look on her face when you (a 17 year old troublemaker) sneak back in the house on a school night after curfew smelling like cigarettes and third base.

I probably wouldn't be grounded for two weeks but I would be in deep shit serious.

And selfishly I needed her. I had so little faith in the health care providers I had seen up to that point and I needed to talk through second opinions and other resources and how to do it all and not delay getting the information that I needed.

I can't type out what that was like without crying. Because through all of this from mammogram to today, that was the worst part. I just kept saying how sorry I was and I wish it wasn't, and it wasn't fair to her.

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry

I explained how the ultrasound had gone and  she was ready to take violent action against the radiologist. 

And we talked about the biopsy, what questions to ask and who I was going to reach out to in case I was going to need a different team to get me through this.

In the three weeks between this conversation and the actual biopsy, I threw myself into work. That has always been my go-to when things are falling apart. I love my job, my co-workers, our customers and the company. It was easy to disassociate when focusing on other things.

Josh went back to school, he knew there was some follow up but didn't know any of the potential outcomes. I was NOT sending him back to school with that to worry about. 

The morning of the biopsy I was scheduled to first meet with the surgical nurse and review the ultrasound results and talk about next steps.

First off, the surgery center is in a separate area of the hospital from the breast center. Up a level, literally and figuratively.

I checked in, took a seat in the waiting room and the nurse came out to get me. From the moment I met her, the vibe was different. Her demeanor was kind and welcoming. 

Her first question was "How are you doing?"

I explained that I had been doing research and had a few questions which I asked. And she answered intelligently and without hesitation.

She then asked if I wanted to go through the potential outcomes of the biopsy. I said yes, I would rather understand what I might be facing. She then proceeded to lay out the three possible outcomes:

1. It is nothing malignant and no further action required

2. There would be some evidence of abnormal cells that could be tested to see what stage they were at and the potential of becoming something more serious

3. There would be cancer present

We then discussed what each of those meant and what I could expect for a follow up on each. 

She was matter of fact, she looked me in the eye the entire time, took care to answer my questions and knew her shit.

Ok, this I could work with. If this is who will be taking care of me after today this is going to be who I want in my corner.

She told me to call anytime with questions and she would follow up with me on the results.

So I went back down to the basement where that radiologist was going to perform the procedure.

Wow, so glad to see her again.

This time she introduced herself at least before shoving a giant needed in my boob.

They numbed the area (a lovely nurse who was open to banter was assisting).

And I was told it would be uncomfortable. 

Hot take:

 if you are going to shove a giant needle into a rather vulnerable part of a person on a daily basis, you should have to go through it first. 

She gravely underestimated what that felt like. I am pretty good at tolerating pain...

but this was like someone poured gasoline into my boob and lit it on fire.

Once the needled had permeated my lump tissue, she pulled out a sample and put in a small titanium metal marker. Just in case they needed to do further procedures, they would know where to find it. 

'Just in case', mmmkay. She really had the worst bedside manner.

And just to make sure it was visible (from space I guess) I got to go back to the boob squisher and have the boob just violated, squished.

Same tech, same demeanor but the squish was a little less uncomfortable.

Everything was where it was supposed to be and I was allowed to leave. 

I could expect my results in a few days, the surgical nurse would call me with that information.

OR

It would show up in cold black and white in my e-chart for me to decipher.

Next time on Kris vs. Cancer: The one with the biopsy results