The Story So Far

 It's weird; I've always had a feeling that I would get breast cancer. I just always assumed it would be later in my life, not when I'm 33. 

This "journey" started about a month ago. I guess you would call it a journey, even if it's a kind of shitty one. I'd felt a lump in my left breast several months earlier, but didn't tell my doctor about it until my annual check up. She also felt it, and she thought it was just some fibrous tissue, but wanted me to get a mammogram just to check it out. The imaging center called me the next day and made an appointment for the end of that week.

Everything moved relatively quickly at my appointment. I guess I'm used to my doctor always running a bit late (I think it's usually because she's talking to her patients, though. She's done the same for me, which I appreciate so it doesn't bother me too much). I filled out some paperwork and was asked to sit in a smaller waiting room specifically for mammogram patients. No one had really told me what to prepare for ahead of time, so I'd done some of my own research into what to expect. I didn't wear any deodorant because apparently it can mess with the mammography. I wore comfortable separates as opposed to a dress, so I could keep my pants on during the exam. They took me to a dressing room with a curtain and gave me a "gown" to put on. I use quotations, because it was more like a cape than a gown. It had one arm hole that was stitched loosely and the other side was free, and it snapped in the front. I kind of appreciate how it fit, to be honest. 

The tech walked me through everything while it was going on. There was a lot of boob maneuvering, but that is to be expected. I remember my mom telling me about it when I was a teenager and being mortified at the thought of someone seeing me half naked. I don't know if I've mellowed out since then or if it just comes with age, but it didn't really bother me. Each breast had to be lifted and placed onto a plate that was then squished with another plate in order to get the image. It was a little uncomfortable, but not unbearable. The more annoying part was having to hold my breath while the image was being taken. Overall, it was quick and painless. 

I was taken back to the dressing room and told that a radiologist would look at the images and determine if I needed an ultrasound to look closer into the lump. She told me either way, I'd get my results at the end of the appointment. I mistakenly took this to mean that I could put my clothes back on. The tech came back and laughed, told me to undress again and put the cape back on, and that I'd need to get ready for an ultrasound. I was starting to get a bit worried at this point, but kept it together. 

I was taken to the ultrasound room and asked to lay on a table while the ultrasound tech did her thing and smeared the area with jelly and moved the wand around the lump. She told me that the radiologist would be in shortly to check everything. The radiologist came in and the tech moved the wand around some more and showed some color on the screen. The radiologist asked if I could see the mass; and I could. He introduced himself, told me he'd been doing this for a long time. He said he was sorry, but this was cancer and that he'd pray for me. He then said he'd need to schedule a biopsy to officially diagnose it, and that they would leave the room to let me get dressed. To say that I was overwhelmed is an understatement. I immediately cried when they left the room and dressed as quickly as possible. The tech had asked me to come get her when I was done, but I just sat on the table and cried. She ended up coming back in to check on me and tried to comfort me while scheduling a biopsy. They apparently didn't have anything available until two weeks later, but she talked the doctor into seeing me the next week so I wouldn't have to wait as long. I left as quickly as possible and held it together until hubs pulled the car around and I explained everything to him. 

Him, his mom, and my mom were all very annoyed that I was told I have cancer before having a biopsy. I was upset for the rest of the weekend, but I'd gotten a few days off to deal with the biopsy. The same tech who did my mammogram prepped me for the biopsy. Every time she saw me looking at the ultrasound screen she would explain what they were looking at. I think her name is Nancy, and I liked her a lot. A different radiologist ended up doing the biopsy and I liked him a lot better. He didn't tell me he would pray for me, and I appreciated that. He kept it professional but personable. He has a niece named Tegan, but pronounced like "Teegan." He stuck the area with the lump with Novocain so I wouldn't feel anything. The actual extraction of tissue was done with a machine, and it was pretty loud, but not alarmingly so. The whole process went by pretty quickly and I was out of there in about two hours. 

The next week I got the call from the nicer radiologist saying that I had stage 2 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. He asked if I wanted him to schedule a surgeon and I told him I wanted to talk to my doctor and he said that was completely fine. I called the doctor's office after and got an appointment the next day. 

Hubs came with me to the doctor's appointment. I find I like having him there as another set of ears, because I can't always process things quickly enough to ask questions I need to. He also has an audible memory and records everything on his phone, so that helps. I love my doctor, and we had a good chat about everything. I think she was worried that I was in shock because I was relatively calm, until I told her that I'd basically been told two weeks ago that I had cancer, and not the day before when the radiologist called me. She set me up with a surgeon and an oncologist that day. 

The meeting with the surgeon happened shortly after, and I was given a lot of information. Since I am young, she said I'd probably be given every treatment available, but she wasn't sure about the order since the pathology results hadn't come back from the radiologist yet (the initial results had, but not the more detailed notes). So at some point I would be getting surgery, radiation, hormone therapy, and possibly chemo. She gave me a booklet with a lot of information that I honestly haven't looked into yet. She told me about "triple negative" which would mean my genes aren't receptive to hormone treatment, and that would mean my treatment would be a little more aggressive. She told me they'd send referrals for an MRI to check my lymph nodes, to a genetic counselor, and to the oncologist. She wanted all of those done in two weeks, but as of right now I only have the genetic counselor scheduled and haven't heard from the Oncologist or about an MRI.

It's a lot of info for one post, but that is the situation so far.