10. The One with the Options

 Last time we left off with the phone call from my doctor telling me she had my test results:


"Hi Kristi, I have your test results."

"Really? So do I."

There was a pause on her end.

"How exactly does that happen? That I have to read that I have cancer sitting at my desk at work?
Who let that happen?"

She explained that there is a federal mandate that all patient information needs to be released to the patient at the same time the doctor receives it.

WOW

The asshat that came up with that clearly hadn't experienced any serious health situations. What must that be like?

Seriously, I would love to know what candy colored world they live in because I know of no-one that hadn't had some medical shit sandwich handed to them or a family member, friend - someone they cared about.

So how did we get here?

As of April 2021, “blocking” patients from their own health records is against the law and may result in fines for hospitals and doctors. Find out how the Information Blocking Rule and Cures Act impacts patients at WhereIsMyMedicalRecord.org.

While I appreciate this in theory, having bitched and moaned when I have not gotten my health information in a timely fashion, there has to be a happy middle doesn't there? Can't you opt in to the type of info you might receive without context?
Like potential deadly, disfiguring diseases: maybe I can opt out of receiving that information via e-chart?

I vowed at that moment once I got to the other side of this' journey' (SIGH) I was going to fight against this. 

We continued on with the conversation. 
"Can you come in tomorrow to go over your results?"

I mean... I was going to sit around and watch General Hospital and eat bon bons but I GUESS I can reschedule that....

"Sure what time?"

"7 a.m.?"

Ummm okay. So my overreaction was not misplaced, if this woman wanted to see me before QVC goes live for the day.

Which is 7 a.m. 
I leave it on for the dogs. 
Yes that sounds weird. 
But those home shopping hosts are a different level of happy. And who wouldn't want to hear all about 
"THIS AMAZING ONCE IN A LIFETIME FOUR EASY PAYMENTS OF 22.22 AND HAVE IT BY CHRISTMAS item?"
 all day long as opposed to say the top of the hour death knell that plays on 24-hour news stations.

 I did have to take away the dogs' credit cards after some suspicious cured meat orders showed up at the house.. but I digress.










So I said sure. Called my mom and confirmed she would be able to join me. Because this was gonna be heavy and I was not equipped to handle, whatever was coming, on my own.

So we made our way to the doctor's office the following morning. I was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Having no idea what the outcome was going to be.

And we arrived and she walked me through the test results. Again.

And we discussed my options (spoiler alert; They all sucked)

She did another exam to see how the healing from the lumpectomy was going. Which was fine.

And then she laid it out for us. My options were as follows:

A further lumpectomy with follow up radiation treatment

A mastectomy 

A mastectomy with reconstruction

Post mastectomy treatment would not involve chemo or radiation but I would work with an oncologist to determine any preventative steps.


At this, I started to cry. I had been able to hold my tears until I got to my car in previous visits but this... this was a step too far. Regardless of which option I  chose, I was going to be changed physically. 

A part of myself that is so synonymous with being a woman. What the hell would the future be like with all of that?
From a self confidence stand point but also from a potential mate stand point. 
My bar for interaction with the opposite sex at that time was: As long as I get laid one more time before I die, I am good.

That bar is slightly higher today but not by much. 
Sneak Peek: "That time I got catfished on hinge and other misadventures in dating" will be coming soon to a blog near you. Once we wrap up the cancer 'journey'.


Anytime the universe would like to stop teaching me 'lessons' would be great.




So I give it a minute, let all that sink in and then say to her:

"What would you do if you were me?"

And she was taken aback. Which was strange to me.

Again, I make assumptions that most people know what I know and would have asked that same question.

Clearly not.

So she thinks on it, and now I felt kind of bad I asked.

 I can't imagine the mental balancing act of being sympathetic to a woman in some of the scariest days of her life while not taking that home with you.

The radiologist was clearly dead inside so that was not of concern to her, but my doctor had a wonderful bedside manner.

And she said "I would do the mastectomy with reconstruction."

She went on to explain there is no guarantee I wouldn't require further surgery with just the lumpectomy. 

She also told me about the plastic surgeon she partners with, they could do it all in one surgery and he could evaluate once it was all said and done if any corrective surgery would be needed on the other side.
She adds that going that route meant it was all gone, and the chances of it coming back on the other side was 4% increasing by that rate with each passing decade. So when I am 70 I will have an 8% chance. 

Those odds sounded good to me.

So I agreed. I walk out of the office with the following:

A diagnosis of Stage 0 cancer. Ductile carcinoma contained to the milk ducts

A pending surgery of mastectomy with reconstruction and removal of three lymph nodes (just in case, out of an abundance of caution...)

And an expected phone call the following week to schedule surgery.

This all happened on Friday October 23rd, one week before my 50th birthday....

Happy Fucking Birthday to me


Next time on Kris vs. Cancer: The one with the plastic surgeon














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