Last Friday was my last doctors appointment with my medical oncologist at kaiser - Dr Liu. When you are treated for cancer you can have up to three oncologists: surgical oncologist (the Dr that performs the surgery), the radiation oncologist (I don't have one yet - that will happen after chemo) and the medical oncologist (this Dr gives you chemo and any post chemo drugs. They are the one that follows you for the rest of your life. Any complaint in the future (cough? Back pain?) I will have to register with my medical oncologist to make sure the cause is not a recurrence of cancer somewhere). I have been very happy with Dr Liu and wish I could take him with me, but unfortunately I need to pick a new medical oncologist up in Oregon. I have two appts next week - May 2nd and 3rd - to talk to an oncologist at OHSU and one at Providence. I will pick the one that I have the best connection with.
In my appt with Dr Liu last Friday we rehashed a lot of the same things from our previous appointment - different types of chemo, tamoxifen after radiation, etc. This would have been the appt where I picked which chemo to go with. I know that sounds odd - picking a chemo, don't they tell you which chemo to get? Not necessarily. They give you the information on each type of chemo, with the statistical numbers on recurrence with each type and you need to weigh the options of how aggressive you want to be (which is a direct correlation with how much toxicity you are putting in your body). My plan is to go with the most agressive chemo (T and C and A) but not the most aggressive regimen. There is a dense dose regimen where it is given to you once a week, and basically you never really feel good since you have less time to recover between treatments. That takes 4 months. I am instead going with the 6 month plan which is every 2 or 3 weeks and takes 6 months. This regimen will in theory give me some good weeks (or days).
We also talked about how long I had cancer before I found it. He did not have a good answer for that one. We know that the cancer was considered a fast growing tumor (because of the grade 3 assigned to it) but that doesn't tell us exactly how long it had been growing. It could be one year or could be 8 years. We also talked about how the tumor was a little bigger than we originally thought (first measured at 2 or 2.2cm, but ended up being 2.5cms) so I wanted to know if it had grown in the 2 weeks prior to surgery. Again, no real answer there since the difference between 2 and 2.5 cms could just be a margin of error in the initial measurement. What I am finding out about cancer is that it's amazing how much they just don't know.
Moving day is tomorrow (how did it get here so quick?). We were busy bees the last 2 weeks - purging, organizing, packing....the purging part feels good...very cleansing. We are all packed up now, sitting in a living room full of boxes (no TV!) and drinking champagne out of plastic cups, eating leftover pizza on paper plates.
I have had a few moments of sadness over the last couple weeks, but they have been washed over by the overwhelming love and support on visits from our friends, dinners with the girls, and knowing that we will see everyone again soon...either in Portland or in SF.
xoxo San Francisco....
Friday, April 29, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Post Op Appt
We met with the surgeon yesterday for the post op check up. I am healing nicely and my recovery is right on track, she was not concerned with anything. She replaced the surgical tape over my stitches with new surgical tape, which can be removed in one week. The stitches themselves will disolve on their own. I was cleared to lift more than 5 lbs with my right arm and can finally stop sleeping at a 30-45 degree angle on my back. I slept like a baby on my left side last night :) I can resume aerobic activity in 2 weeks.
We went over the pathology report (which we already knew most of it) and discussed why she removed 3 additional lymph nodes (they were right there when she found the Sentinal Lymph Node for the biopsy so decided to take those additional 3 as well which would lower the chance of false negative results). The tumor size was 2.5cm (a little bigger than we thought) which puts me at Stage IIa (very early stage two).
The additional news from the pathology report that we did not know about from her voicemail last week is that there was "no angiolymphatic invasion identified" which is GREAT. Cancer cells can be detected as "crawling" into or towards the bloodstream. None detected means no activity was detected which would mean it appears the cancer cells have stayed contained within the tumor area. This is significant since my tumor was listed at a grade 3 - which is the kind that like to get out. And it appears it did not try to get out, but stayed contained in one site. GOOD STUFF
We also discussed chemo briefly. I am in that gray area....I am luckily not at high risk (it does not seem like cancer has gotten out) but I am not low risk where chemo would not be necessary. We looked at the statistics again and Dr. Langer quietly said "If I were in your shoes, I would get it". So we will continue down that path towards chemo...
We went over the pathology report (which we already knew most of it) and discussed why she removed 3 additional lymph nodes (they were right there when she found the Sentinal Lymph Node for the biopsy so decided to take those additional 3 as well which would lower the chance of false negative results). The tumor size was 2.5cm (a little bigger than we thought) which puts me at Stage IIa (very early stage two).
The additional news from the pathology report that we did not know about from her voicemail last week is that there was "no angiolymphatic invasion identified" which is GREAT. Cancer cells can be detected as "crawling" into or towards the bloodstream. None detected means no activity was detected which would mean it appears the cancer cells have stayed contained within the tumor area. This is significant since my tumor was listed at a grade 3 - which is the kind that like to get out. And it appears it did not try to get out, but stayed contained in one site. GOOD STUFF
We also discussed chemo briefly. I am in that gray area....I am luckily not at high risk (it does not seem like cancer has gotten out) but I am not low risk where chemo would not be necessary. We looked at the statistics again and Dr. Langer quietly said "If I were in your shoes, I would get it". So we will continue down that path towards chemo...
Friday, April 8, 2011
GREAT NEWS!
Dr Langer just called - pathology report came back already. They got clean margins on the "primary" (cancer) which means they do NOT need to go back in to scoop anymore out. And all four of the nodes came back negative for cancer, meaning it most likely hasn't spread :)
Yay!
Yay!
Surgery update
I was really groggy when Dr Langer gave me the update after surgery, so I emailed her to find out exactly what happened. I knew she said she removed more than the one lump, but it was all a blur. Dr Langer called me back, left a message and said she removed the lump in the breast that we knew about and did not see anything else in the breast. In the armpit, she found one node that was blue from the dye and three little nodes around it which were not blue. She removed them all, thought they felt fine and sent them off for testing. She expects them to come back negative for more cancer.
I am recovering nicely at home. A little sore and a little tired, but not so bad overall. Follow up appointment is next Friday with Dr Langer, where hopefully we will get results back from what was sent out after surgery.
I am recovering nicely at home. A little sore and a little tired, but not so bad overall. Follow up appointment is next Friday with Dr Langer, where hopefully we will get results back from what was sent out after surgery.
Chemo, etc
I wrote the first post two weeks prior to surgery then realized I hadn't posted it yet, so threw it up the night before. There have been a lot of updates since then....some really good and some not so good. Let's get to the good stuff first.
In our first appointment with the surgeon she mentioned that it was unusual for a woman my age to get cancer without it being hereditary and I should get genetic testing done. We made an appointment with a genetic counselor and sat down to look at the family tree. She thought it was unlikely that I had the inherited susceptibility given my family history (no history of breast or ovarian cancer at a young age anywhere except me) but we submitted my blood for testing just in case. They send the blood off to a lab to study the DNA and see if there is a mutation on the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes. http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA. If I had the mutation that they know of I would have what we all refer to as "the breast cancer gene". Results were due back in 4 weeks, which put us knowing results after surgery. This is significant because if you do test positive for the mutation then not only are your recurrence rates much higher, but you have a much higher chance of getting ovarian cancer too! With a positive result, mastectomy is the typical outcome (because of the recurrence rate). They also recommend you remove your ovaries once you are done having children. The good news is that the results came back early, the day before surgery, and I tested negative. So why did I get cancer at such a young age? Who knows. That test only tests for two mutations that they know about. There is so much that they don't know and many genes that have not been mapped yet.
The surgeon also recommended that I get an MRI so they could determine that the lump we found is the only thing in there. The reason for the MRI over a mammogram is because the mammogram did not show the cancer. Mammograms are not good tests for dense breasts, and because I am young AND breastfeeding, my breasts are very dense. Finding cancer on a dense breast mammogram is like "trying to find a snowman in a blizzard" the surgeon said. So the fact that I found this lump on my own is really really lucky. It would not show up on a mammogram. I did the MRI the week after my appointment with the surgeon. It was loud, clanky, annoying and extremely claustrophobic. You are laying face down for 45 minutes and are not allowed to move. We got the results back a few days later and they did not see any more cancer in the right breast than what we already know about, and did not see anything in the left breast. Great news. This was the determining factor to move forward with lumpectomy vs. Mastectomy.
Good news number three: the original pathology report had inconclusive results for Her2Neu. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HER2/neu. This test tells us how aggressive the cancer is. They had to run more tests and the last test came back negative. Extremely good news! Also means I just avoided needing to take a drug called Herceptin.
The surgeon was also happy that I tested positive for the estrogen receptor. This means the cancer feeds off estrogen. She was happy about this because this makes me a candidate for taking a drug called Tamoxifen. This is a targeted drug that in essence blocks the estrogen from feeding the cancer, reducing your recurrence rates. They want me on this drug for 5 years after my treatments end.
Ok, onto the bad news. I am getting chemo. I had originally thought I would fight against this, but there are a few factors that convinced me otherwise. Since my cancer was a Nottingham grade 3 (the most likely to spread), they just don't know if it has gotten out. I could have one tiny cancer cell floating around in my bloodstream. They can't test for it, and is that really something I want to roll the dice on? The lumpectomy and radiation only treat a localized area. It does not treat your entire body. Chemo is a systemic treatment - it kills cancer everywhere. So if it had gotten out, chemo would kill it. Seems like a lot to go through when they don't know right? That is what I thought too...until the doctor showed me the numbers. With my exact cancer (2 cm lump, Nottingham grade 3, Her2Neu negative, estrogen receptor positive) I would have a 50% chance of recurrence with just lumpectomy and radiation. Adding in tamoxifen for 5 years lowers it to 35% chance. Add in chemo and it drops to a 15% chance for recurrence. The numbers are staggering. With other cancers and other treatments the combined drugs and treatments only shave off a few percentage points for recurrence. But with my combined therapy path, I am shaving off over 30 points. Yes, chemo will suck. But I'd rather suck it up for a few months then go through this again.
Ok, more bad news....with the chemo and the radiation and the tamoxifen for 5 years, the likelihood of having more children is pretty low. Some women freeze their eggs before getting chemo because chemo does not do good things for your fertility. And they do not want you to get pregnant when you are taking tamoxifen. Which puts me at 41 when this is all over. Not exactly baby making years. But we were not even sure if we were going to have more children anyway (plus I am fertile Myrtle) so we are just going to roll the dice. If at 41 we are ready for more kids and it happens, great. If not, we already won the lottery with Thomas. I never felt a void before having children and now my cup runneth over.
The big whammy for me with chemo is that they want me to start it as soon as I heal from surgery - and not more than 4 weeks after surgery. Living in SF without family, we just aren't in a situation where we could handle going through chemo alone. And to our wonderful SF friends who are like our family and are saying "but you won't be alone, we are here!" we just can't do that to you. We are moving at the end of this month to live with my parents in Oregon so they can help us take care me. There were too many scenarios that ran through my head when my doctor told me I had to get chemo.....who would come over at 3am to watch Thomas if I had a fever during chemo and Bob had to take me to the ER....who would help Bob if Thomas got sick and I was too sick to help? We are so lucky to be in a situation where my parents can take us in (and are actually pretty excited about it). And I'm very lucky that my company is supporting me, wants me to focus on getting better, and will let me come back when I am healthy and ready.
I know I keep saying how lucky I am and you are thinking - but you have cancer. Trust me, even with cancer I wouldn't trade my life with anyone. I have never felt so loved.
In our first appointment with the surgeon she mentioned that it was unusual for a woman my age to get cancer without it being hereditary and I should get genetic testing done. We made an appointment with a genetic counselor and sat down to look at the family tree. She thought it was unlikely that I had the inherited susceptibility given my family history (no history of breast or ovarian cancer at a young age anywhere except me) but we submitted my blood for testing just in case. They send the blood off to a lab to study the DNA and see if there is a mutation on the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes. http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA. If I had the mutation that they know of I would have what we all refer to as "the breast cancer gene". Results were due back in 4 weeks, which put us knowing results after surgery. This is significant because if you do test positive for the mutation then not only are your recurrence rates much higher, but you have a much higher chance of getting ovarian cancer too! With a positive result, mastectomy is the typical outcome (because of the recurrence rate). They also recommend you remove your ovaries once you are done having children. The good news is that the results came back early, the day before surgery, and I tested negative. So why did I get cancer at such a young age? Who knows. That test only tests for two mutations that they know about. There is so much that they don't know and many genes that have not been mapped yet.
The surgeon also recommended that I get an MRI so they could determine that the lump we found is the only thing in there. The reason for the MRI over a mammogram is because the mammogram did not show the cancer. Mammograms are not good tests for dense breasts, and because I am young AND breastfeeding, my breasts are very dense. Finding cancer on a dense breast mammogram is like "trying to find a snowman in a blizzard" the surgeon said. So the fact that I found this lump on my own is really really lucky. It would not show up on a mammogram. I did the MRI the week after my appointment with the surgeon. It was loud, clanky, annoying and extremely claustrophobic. You are laying face down for 45 minutes and are not allowed to move. We got the results back a few days later and they did not see any more cancer in the right breast than what we already know about, and did not see anything in the left breast. Great news. This was the determining factor to move forward with lumpectomy vs. Mastectomy.
Good news number three: the original pathology report had inconclusive results for Her2Neu. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HER2/neu. This test tells us how aggressive the cancer is. They had to run more tests and the last test came back negative. Extremely good news! Also means I just avoided needing to take a drug called Herceptin.
The surgeon was also happy that I tested positive for the estrogen receptor. This means the cancer feeds off estrogen. She was happy about this because this makes me a candidate for taking a drug called Tamoxifen. This is a targeted drug that in essence blocks the estrogen from feeding the cancer, reducing your recurrence rates. They want me on this drug for 5 years after my treatments end.
Ok, onto the bad news. I am getting chemo. I had originally thought I would fight against this, but there are a few factors that convinced me otherwise. Since my cancer was a Nottingham grade 3 (the most likely to spread), they just don't know if it has gotten out. I could have one tiny cancer cell floating around in my bloodstream. They can't test for it, and is that really something I want to roll the dice on? The lumpectomy and radiation only treat a localized area. It does not treat your entire body. Chemo is a systemic treatment - it kills cancer everywhere. So if it had gotten out, chemo would kill it. Seems like a lot to go through when they don't know right? That is what I thought too...until the doctor showed me the numbers. With my exact cancer (2 cm lump, Nottingham grade 3, Her2Neu negative, estrogen receptor positive) I would have a 50% chance of recurrence with just lumpectomy and radiation. Adding in tamoxifen for 5 years lowers it to 35% chance. Add in chemo and it drops to a 15% chance for recurrence. The numbers are staggering. With other cancers and other treatments the combined drugs and treatments only shave off a few percentage points for recurrence. But with my combined therapy path, I am shaving off over 30 points. Yes, chemo will suck. But I'd rather suck it up for a few months then go through this again.
Ok, more bad news....with the chemo and the radiation and the tamoxifen for 5 years, the likelihood of having more children is pretty low. Some women freeze their eggs before getting chemo because chemo does not do good things for your fertility. And they do not want you to get pregnant when you are taking tamoxifen. Which puts me at 41 when this is all over. Not exactly baby making years. But we were not even sure if we were going to have more children anyway (plus I am fertile Myrtle) so we are just going to roll the dice. If at 41 we are ready for more kids and it happens, great. If not, we already won the lottery with Thomas. I never felt a void before having children and now my cup runneth over.
The big whammy for me with chemo is that they want me to start it as soon as I heal from surgery - and not more than 4 weeks after surgery. Living in SF without family, we just aren't in a situation where we could handle going through chemo alone. And to our wonderful SF friends who are like our family and are saying "but you won't be alone, we are here!" we just can't do that to you. We are moving at the end of this month to live with my parents in Oregon so they can help us take care me. There were too many scenarios that ran through my head when my doctor told me I had to get chemo.....who would come over at 3am to watch Thomas if I had a fever during chemo and Bob had to take me to the ER....who would help Bob if Thomas got sick and I was too sick to help? We are so lucky to be in a situation where my parents can take us in (and are actually pretty excited about it). And I'm very lucky that my company is supporting me, wants me to focus on getting better, and will let me come back when I am healthy and ready.
I know I keep saying how lucky I am and you are thinking - but you have cancer. Trust me, even with cancer I wouldn't trade my life with anyone. I have never felt so loved.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Surgery day
Surgery day was the sixth. We had originally thought I was the first appointment of the day (on the table by 8, home by noon! Yay!) then found out the day before I had been bumped by emergency surgeries and was scheduled for 3 pm. They wanted us there by 12:50, so spent the morning hanging out with my mom and Bob and playing with Thomas.
Got to the hospital and it was a big hurry up and wait. We were on time (of course) but didn't get ushered back into the ASU (ambulatory surgery unit) until after 2. Gown on, IV in....still didn't have a set surgery time. 3 o'clock came and went. Finally a little before 4 I was ushered out for prep. At 4 they wheeled me into the OR - completely awake and coherent I might add. I don't know why I found this disturbing but I did. My other experiences in the OR (appendectomy / childbirth) I was either drugged up or in so much pain when they wheeled me in there that I didn't really look around or notice much. But this time i noticed it all - scalpels on the table, insanely bright lights...no bueno. It was unsettling.
Within 10 minutes they gave me drugs to relax me and knocked me out.
An hour and a half later I woke up in recovery. They brought my mom in right away and I groggily told her that I loved her and felt fine. Unfortunately she had to catch a flight back home and had to leave in ten minutes (we thought my surgery was going to be much earlier). They brought Bob in a little while later and the drugs were wearing off. I didn't feel so hot. Pain scale creeped up from 4 to 7 and I kept asking for pain meds. It was a sharp burning pain at the incision mark. They gave me something in my IV to ease the pain and told me it might make me feel nauseous. Since I hadn't eaten all day (!) they brought in saltines and juice which I scarfed down. Unfortunately the pain meds didn't do anything but make me vomit....continuously. Everytime I tried to move I threw up. They were ready to discharge me but I couldn't even get up. This I was not ready for. All I wanted to do was go home. Finally the nurse said "there's no rush to leave....but you can either be nauseous at home or nauseous here." They had already given me all anti-nausea drugs they could and after throwing up about ten times I was convinced I had nothing left in me and said let's bite the bullet and head out. The drive home was quick and I almost made it all the way (unfortunately threw up in the hallway right outside our apartment - in a plastic bag). Crawled into bed and felt better immediately. It was ten o'clock.
Since the surgery was so much later than anticipated we asked our good friend Joe P. to come over at seven so our nanny could go home. Joe has been up for many awards over the years - best father, most supporting husband, amazing best man....but I am putting him up for a new award - Wolf in training. I'll explain - you know the scene in Pulp Fiction where they call The Wolf and he comes screeching in to save the day? Well that is what we call my Dad (coined by Rob, and it was a perfect fit). No matter where he is in Portland, if you need something you call my dad and he is there in five minutes. He is The Wolf. And since there can really be only one Wolf, I name Joe P as a Wolf in Training. But it's really only a technicality my friend...you are a close second to Dave. He also happens to be married to an amazing Mom of two, Michelle, who somehow found the time to make us a huge thing of pasta and some brownies. Big hugs to the Pipitones today....what would we do without you.
Got to the hospital and it was a big hurry up and wait. We were on time (of course) but didn't get ushered back into the ASU (ambulatory surgery unit) until after 2. Gown on, IV in....still didn't have a set surgery time. 3 o'clock came and went. Finally a little before 4 I was ushered out for prep. At 4 they wheeled me into the OR - completely awake and coherent I might add. I don't know why I found this disturbing but I did. My other experiences in the OR (appendectomy / childbirth) I was either drugged up or in so much pain when they wheeled me in there that I didn't really look around or notice much. But this time i noticed it all - scalpels on the table, insanely bright lights...no bueno. It was unsettling.
Within 10 minutes they gave me drugs to relax me and knocked me out.
An hour and a half later I woke up in recovery. They brought my mom in right away and I groggily told her that I loved her and felt fine. Unfortunately she had to catch a flight back home and had to leave in ten minutes (we thought my surgery was going to be much earlier). They brought Bob in a little while later and the drugs were wearing off. I didn't feel so hot. Pain scale creeped up from 4 to 7 and I kept asking for pain meds. It was a sharp burning pain at the incision mark. They gave me something in my IV to ease the pain and told me it might make me feel nauseous. Since I hadn't eaten all day (!) they brought in saltines and juice which I scarfed down. Unfortunately the pain meds didn't do anything but make me vomit....continuously. Everytime I tried to move I threw up. They were ready to discharge me but I couldn't even get up. This I was not ready for. All I wanted to do was go home. Finally the nurse said "there's no rush to leave....but you can either be nauseous at home or nauseous here." They had already given me all anti-nausea drugs they could and after throwing up about ten times I was convinced I had nothing left in me and said let's bite the bullet and head out. The drive home was quick and I almost made it all the way (unfortunately threw up in the hallway right outside our apartment - in a plastic bag). Crawled into bed and felt better immediately. It was ten o'clock.
Since the surgery was so much later than anticipated we asked our good friend Joe P. to come over at seven so our nanny could go home. Joe has been up for many awards over the years - best father, most supporting husband, amazing best man....but I am putting him up for a new award - Wolf in training. I'll explain - you know the scene in Pulp Fiction where they call The Wolf and he comes screeching in to save the day? Well that is what we call my Dad (coined by Rob, and it was a perfect fit). No matter where he is in Portland, if you need something you call my dad and he is there in five minutes. He is The Wolf. And since there can really be only one Wolf, I name Joe P as a Wolf in Training. But it's really only a technicality my friend...you are a close second to Dave. He also happens to be married to an amazing Mom of two, Michelle, who somehow found the time to make us a huge thing of pasta and some brownies. Big hugs to the Pipitones today....what would we do without you.
Grandma Gilmore
Grandma Gilmore passed away Tuesday morning. She was 97 years old and one tough cookie...a true survivor. One of the toughest, strongest ladies I've known. She did Tai Chi and soft shoe dancing well into her 80s.
My Mom called Monday night with a "I think this is it" ...of course we had had a few of those over the past couple years...broken hip....pneumonia....she beat them all. She really was a survivor. Even in her 90s she WANTED TO LIVE and fought against it all. But this one was different. She was refusing to eat. It sounded like she had given up. They were giving her morphine to keep her comfortable.
I realized when I went to bed that night why she was finally giving up. She was such a fighter, but she was handing her fight over to me now. She must have known I needed it this year. Thank you Grandma. I love you and won't let you down. I'll keep fighting just like you did.
My Mom called Monday night with a "I think this is it" ...of course we had had a few of those over the past couple years...broken hip....pneumonia....she beat them all. She really was a survivor. Even in her 90s she WANTED TO LIVE and fought against it all. But this one was different. She was refusing to eat. It sounded like she had given up. They were giving her morphine to keep her comfortable.
I realized when I went to bed that night why she was finally giving up. She was such a fighter, but she was handing her fight over to me now. She must have known I needed it this year. Thank you Grandma. I love you and won't let you down. I'll keep fighting just like you did.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The start of it all...
10 wonderful months ago, Thomas came into our lives. I was very excited to breastfeed, and through a lot of struggle and persistance, I was able to successfully breastfeed Thomas from the start. My plan was to make it one year breastfeeding.
Around the holidays in 2010 I noticed a slight pressure on my right breast. Anyone who has ever breastfed before knows that your breasts are never really the same as before, so I took this to be a side effect of breastfeeding. A few weeks later I noticed a lump while breastfeeding. Again, just thought it was plugged duct from breast feeding and went on to try to unplug it with warm compresses, etc. It didn't go away. It didn't change size. I emailed my doctor who expressed some concern and thought I should come in for an exam. Life went on, I got "busy" and just didn't get around to making an appointment. I just didn't think it was anything to be concerned about.
Finally, almost 3 months after noticing the symptoms, I scheduled an apppointment. I got an appointment that same day, although not with my regular doctor. The doctor I saw wanted me to get an ultrasound to get a closer look but when pressed thought that "it was highly unlikely this was something dangerous". Phew I thought. The next week I went in for an ultrasound. I had a wonderful doctor who was joking with me the entire appointment and we were laughing about the perils of breastfeeding (she had just stopped herself). She found the lump with the ultrasound and printed off a picture to show a surgeon who happened to be in the office at that moment. The surgeon took one look and thought it looked perfectly normal for a breastfeeding mom. We were all thinking it was either a cyst or a fibroiadenoma. Either way, nothing dangerous. They referred me to a higher resolution ultrasound to take one more closer look. Luckily I got an appointment that same afternoon with a radiologist. The higher resolution ultrasound was a whole new world - very serious radiologist, dark room....ominous. He took one look at the mass and decided not to say much except that he didn't like the way it looked and wanted a biopsy. My heart sank. He did a needle core biopsy and said results would be back late next week. It was a Thursday. That Monday at work he called. "I am sorry to have to tell you....." the rest was kind of a blur as I sat at my desk and tried to write with shaking hands what he was telling me. I had to have him repeat it a few times...invasive ductal carcinoma. I bombarded him with questions (what stage am I in? what does this mean? has it spread?) but he said he didn't know anything else and that the surgeon's office would call in the next couple of days to schedule an appopintment. In the next couple of days?! Didn't they know I have cancer! Ok, I didn't say that but he heard the panic in my voice and gave me the direct line to the person that does all the appointments then wished me luck. I quietly broke down in my not so private cube, then grabbed my cell phone to find somewhere to call Bob and my Mom in private. They were both so strong (we can beat this!) but we were all completely shocked. The rest of the day was a blur. Eventually I got an appointment with the surgeon - For FRIDAY. This was a Monday. I went the rest of the week anxiously waiting what Friday would tell me.
Friday came and Bob and I went into the appointment hoping for the best. The surgeon, Dr Langer, was wonderful and started out the appointment with "this is so treatable". She spent 1 1/2 hours going over the three main things from the pathology report: (1)estrogren / progesterone receptor: POSITIVE. this means that the cancer is responsive to estrogren (2)Her2neu: did not come back with a conclusive positive or negative result. This would tell us how aggressive the cancer is. (3) nottigham grade: 3. This is the highest grade, it is on a scale of 1 to 3. this just means it might be more likely to spread. The treatments discussed were one of two things: a) lumpectomy followed by 6 wks of radiation or b) mastectomy w/ reconstructive surgery. My surgery is scheduled for April 6th. Whether we go fwd with (a) or (b) is partly determined by results from MRI and left side mammogram. And so the journey begins..
Around the holidays in 2010 I noticed a slight pressure on my right breast. Anyone who has ever breastfed before knows that your breasts are never really the same as before, so I took this to be a side effect of breastfeeding. A few weeks later I noticed a lump while breastfeeding. Again, just thought it was plugged duct from breast feeding and went on to try to unplug it with warm compresses, etc. It didn't go away. It didn't change size. I emailed my doctor who expressed some concern and thought I should come in for an exam. Life went on, I got "busy" and just didn't get around to making an appointment. I just didn't think it was anything to be concerned about.
Finally, almost 3 months after noticing the symptoms, I scheduled an apppointment. I got an appointment that same day, although not with my regular doctor. The doctor I saw wanted me to get an ultrasound to get a closer look but when pressed thought that "it was highly unlikely this was something dangerous". Phew I thought. The next week I went in for an ultrasound. I had a wonderful doctor who was joking with me the entire appointment and we were laughing about the perils of breastfeeding (she had just stopped herself). She found the lump with the ultrasound and printed off a picture to show a surgeon who happened to be in the office at that moment. The surgeon took one look and thought it looked perfectly normal for a breastfeeding mom. We were all thinking it was either a cyst or a fibroiadenoma. Either way, nothing dangerous. They referred me to a higher resolution ultrasound to take one more closer look. Luckily I got an appointment that same afternoon with a radiologist. The higher resolution ultrasound was a whole new world - very serious radiologist, dark room....ominous. He took one look at the mass and decided not to say much except that he didn't like the way it looked and wanted a biopsy. My heart sank. He did a needle core biopsy and said results would be back late next week. It was a Thursday. That Monday at work he called. "I am sorry to have to tell you....." the rest was kind of a blur as I sat at my desk and tried to write with shaking hands what he was telling me. I had to have him repeat it a few times...invasive ductal carcinoma. I bombarded him with questions (what stage am I in? what does this mean? has it spread?) but he said he didn't know anything else and that the surgeon's office would call in the next couple of days to schedule an appopintment. In the next couple of days?! Didn't they know I have cancer! Ok, I didn't say that but he heard the panic in my voice and gave me the direct line to the person that does all the appointments then wished me luck. I quietly broke down in my not so private cube, then grabbed my cell phone to find somewhere to call Bob and my Mom in private. They were both so strong (we can beat this!) but we were all completely shocked. The rest of the day was a blur. Eventually I got an appointment with the surgeon - For FRIDAY. This was a Monday. I went the rest of the week anxiously waiting what Friday would tell me.
Friday came and Bob and I went into the appointment hoping for the best. The surgeon, Dr Langer, was wonderful and started out the appointment with "this is so treatable". She spent 1 1/2 hours going over the three main things from the pathology report: (1)estrogren / progesterone receptor: POSITIVE. this means that the cancer is responsive to estrogren (2)Her2neu: did not come back with a conclusive positive or negative result. This would tell us how aggressive the cancer is. (3) nottigham grade: 3. This is the highest grade, it is on a scale of 1 to 3. this just means it might be more likely to spread. The treatments discussed were one of two things: a) lumpectomy followed by 6 wks of radiation or b) mastectomy w/ reconstructive surgery. My surgery is scheduled for April 6th. Whether we go fwd with (a) or (b) is partly determined by results from MRI and left side mammogram. And so the journey begins..
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