B9, it's not just a bingo call anymore
I know I have a history. A genetic history. I think about it daily, saddly, and I know I have to take action to be responsible to my family and friends, and to myself.
I am losing weight, that helps. I have yearly checks and mamograms. I am having all unnecessary girlie parts taken to the cleaners and have investigated natural alternatives to HRT. I do all this so I can be here for those I love, and I do all this for me.
When I had my mamogram this year, I thought nothing of it. A little squeeze in their machine, and it's all over. Whew, done for another year. Then they called. "We want to get another picture. There is a density we want to evaluate. Could just be tissue piled up on itself. Don't worry, but come in tomorrow." Ok, I think. No sweat.
They take the pictures, this time a bit tighter, a bit squishier, and the wait.
"Well, we'd like to send you for an ultrasound."
When?
"Right now."
Um, ok.
Now I wait with nerves on fire. I need the results. Mom had breast cancer at 41, Grandma was older, but still, strike 2 on the old familial genetic tree. My 2nd cousin, Terry, died at 29 from metastatic breast cancer. ::gulp:: (she was so vain that she would not have surgery to remove the cancer because without a breast she felt she would not be a woman. She left behind 2 children under the age of 10. So sad.) I call my Doctor's office. I have connections there. The official reports reads...
"2cm x 1cm density in the right breast. Due to extensive family history, surgical biopsy is recommended to exclude the low likelyhood of a neoplasm."
That's it in a nutshell.
Low Likelyhood
I can breath again. Thank god, because now, just hours after I get this report of cautiously optomistic news, I find out my grandmother has passed on in Florida, and I need to concentrate my efforts on other matters.
To Florida, then Wisconsin, then home. I make an appointment with the local surgeon and they get me in right away. I was able to stop thinking about it while the chaos of my travels was occuring, now that I have a surgery date, I get nervous. Ah well.
My Doc doesn't do needle biopsies and for that I am glad. She does a total lumpectomy. Saves you the hassle of looking at the same spot year after year. And as I remember my father saying so eloquently once about my mother's cancer, "Can't we just take it all? I'm a woodworker, and if there is a knot in a board, I cut it out." Yep, we cut out the knot in this plank.
The worst part of the whole surgery thing was the IV. I have crappy veins. The needle isolation, piece of cake. The anestetic, well, lets say the surgery staff thought it was grand. They put me out while they numbed the area then they let me wake up (my wish, by the way). Versed is the drug of choice and it is an amnesiac. I had them giggling in the OR when I asked for the 5th time, "So, when will I get the pathology report?" and for the 6th time, "Hey, what was that stuff you gave me?" meaning the anestetic. I guess I liked it.
I asked the Doc once more in recovery when I would hear about the pathology report, and she told me Thursday or Friday. She said she would call if it was cancerous, but her office staff would call if everythingwas ok. Hmmm.
Left the hospital on Tuesday afternoon, had dinner with my father, brother, husband, son and niece, then home to sleep. Back to work the next day.
As I was getting ready for work, the phone rang. Paul brought me the phone... "Doctor's office" ::gulp::
"Hi this is Dr. ____ nurse."
Yeah!!!
"I'm calling with your pathology report. Everything was ok. It is benign."
B9
Not just for bingo anymore.
So, now I'm bruised, and have what hubby affectionately called "the amazing technicolor boob" but I am relieved. I have done my duty to my family and myself. I have these mamograms to look for this crap, so I can get it taken care of at the soonest opportunity. It's still scary as hell, but I made it through round 1, and can face round 2 if that time ever occurs.
I am losing weight, that helps. I have yearly checks and mamograms. I am having all unnecessary girlie parts taken to the cleaners and have investigated natural alternatives to HRT. I do all this so I can be here for those I love, and I do all this for me.
When I had my mamogram this year, I thought nothing of it. A little squeeze in their machine, and it's all over. Whew, done for another year. Then they called. "We want to get another picture. There is a density we want to evaluate. Could just be tissue piled up on itself. Don't worry, but come in tomorrow." Ok, I think. No sweat.
They take the pictures, this time a bit tighter, a bit squishier, and the wait.
"Well, we'd like to send you for an ultrasound."
When?
"Right now."
Um, ok.
Now I wait with nerves on fire. I need the results. Mom had breast cancer at 41, Grandma was older, but still, strike 2 on the old familial genetic tree. My 2nd cousin, Terry, died at 29 from metastatic breast cancer. ::gulp:: (she was so vain that she would not have surgery to remove the cancer because without a breast she felt she would not be a woman. She left behind 2 children under the age of 10. So sad.) I call my Doctor's office. I have connections there. The official reports reads...
"2cm x 1cm density in the right breast. Due to extensive family history, surgical biopsy is recommended to exclude the low likelyhood of a neoplasm."
That's it in a nutshell.
Low Likelyhood
I can breath again. Thank god, because now, just hours after I get this report of cautiously optomistic news, I find out my grandmother has passed on in Florida, and I need to concentrate my efforts on other matters.
To Florida, then Wisconsin, then home. I make an appointment with the local surgeon and they get me in right away. I was able to stop thinking about it while the chaos of my travels was occuring, now that I have a surgery date, I get nervous. Ah well.
My Doc doesn't do needle biopsies and for that I am glad. She does a total lumpectomy. Saves you the hassle of looking at the same spot year after year. And as I remember my father saying so eloquently once about my mother's cancer, "Can't we just take it all? I'm a woodworker, and if there is a knot in a board, I cut it out." Yep, we cut out the knot in this plank.
The worst part of the whole surgery thing was the IV. I have crappy veins. The needle isolation, piece of cake. The anestetic, well, lets say the surgery staff thought it was grand. They put me out while they numbed the area then they let me wake up (my wish, by the way). Versed is the drug of choice and it is an amnesiac. I had them giggling in the OR when I asked for the 5th time, "So, when will I get the pathology report?" and for the 6th time, "Hey, what was that stuff you gave me?" meaning the anestetic. I guess I liked it.
I asked the Doc once more in recovery when I would hear about the pathology report, and she told me Thursday or Friday. She said she would call if it was cancerous, but her office staff would call if everythingwas ok. Hmmm.
Left the hospital on Tuesday afternoon, had dinner with my father, brother, husband, son and niece, then home to sleep. Back to work the next day.
As I was getting ready for work, the phone rang. Paul brought me the phone... "Doctor's office" ::gulp::
"Hi this is Dr. ____ nurse."
Yeah!!!
"I'm calling with your pathology report. Everything was ok. It is benign."
B9
Not just for bingo anymore.
So, now I'm bruised, and have what hubby affectionately called "the amazing technicolor boob" but I am relieved. I have done my duty to my family and myself. I have these mamograms to look for this crap, so I can get it taken care of at the soonest opportunity. It's still scary as hell, but I made it through round 1, and can face round 2 if that time ever occurs.
posted by Angela | 18:03
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