I am of no use to anyone right now. Totally distracted and totally unhelpful.
I have a million things I could and should be doing and yet doing none of them.
I am about as prepared for surgery as I think you can get. The waiting sucks. I'm dreading it. But in other respects it cannot come fast enough.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
I hate ambiguity, I hate "grey" areas and I hate making hard decisions.
I was so happy, so comfortable and so settled with my treatment plan after meeting with the surgeon last week. I was ready. Lumpectomy, radiation, go.
I got a call from the doctor yesterday - my MRI and case went before the tumor review board. It was evaluated by multiple doctors. My scans are a hard to read. I have "busy" tissue and "a lot going on". Recommended to take more tissue than originally planned to make sure to get clear margins. Do I still want to do a lumpectomy? Are we still good?
I DON'T KNOW.
What do you recommend? What should I do? Why is mastectomy such a big scary word? Why am I terrified of the treatment plan that involves mastectomy????
Here's what I know:
The recurrence rate is BARELY different for a mastectomy and a lumpectomy (2% and 5% recurrence rates). This is what made me feel comfortable choosing lumpectomy and radiation for treatment. Chance of recurrence is low for either. So why wouldn't I opt to keep my boob?
I have now heard this, or something like this, a lot. I have "a lot going on" in my left breast. It's "busy". It's "hard to see". The ultra sound tech said it. The mammogram tech said it. BOTH radiologist who looked at my ultrasound and mammogram and did my biopsy said it.
So. Now this isn't just a question about recurrence. Now there's a question, totally unavailable for answers, about is there anything else going on in that left boob that I don't know about. And will I always worry if I don't just have it removed?
I DON'T KNOW.
I can do the lumpectomy and hope for good margins. If they aren't good, then I'd probably need to do a mastectomy anyway. If they are good, then I'll get MRI or Mammograms (probably alternating) every six months. But I hear this echo of "busy" and "hard to read".
Fuck cancer.
I am always thinking about cancer. I have it. It exists. It rarely leaves my field of perception.
I have not changed in any noticeable way. I have no symptoms. It literally has not impacted my quality of my life, and, until surgery, nothing will really change. Except I think it about it. All. The. Time.
It is always there.
Now, this sounds like a bad thing, but it's not really. Just like the cancer, it just is.
For the last 10 years I've participated in meditation and mindfulness at various degrees. It has been a fantastic coping mechanism for my social anxiety and depression. It keeps me fairly high functioning (though maybe ask my husband. He may have a different view. LOL)
One of my first phone calls after my diagnosis was to a friend of mine I truly respect, who navigated her cancer diagnosis about 12 years ago (maybe more? Honestly I have no idea the timeline). She and I share a lot of similar beliefs and perspectives on life and have worked together a lot over the last few years. She reminded me of the philosophy and perception that I often practice in mindfulness. This experience IS.
It just IS.
Shout out to my cancer friend! When she found out I was diagnosed with cancer, she disclosed she is about 4-5 weeks ahead of me in diagnosis.
With all the variables that come with Breast Cancer (condition, grade, category, size, timing, hormones, etc) our situations are different. But we do both have breast cancer. It has been helpful to me to be able to talk with someone else, in such a similar place in our timeline of this cancer crazy.
I am thinking of her today as she has her lumpectomy and the first step in her treatment process.
MRI results are back.
Right breast is still benign (I giggle at the 2nd definition that implies my right breast is kind and gentle).
Left breast. Yep, tumor is still there. Measures about .5 inches, so slightly bigger than it appeared in the ultra-sound. But that doesn't change anything.
No indication of lymph node involvement.
No impact on treatment plan.
Genetic counseling intake is scheduled for March 15th. We'll be looking specifically at the BRCA 1 and BRCA 2 genes. These genes (which everyone has), if they have mutations, would make me more susceptible to cancer. That's good information to have, now that I have officially been diagnosed with cancer. Yay for getting to check THAT box at every future doctor's office. I probably won't have results of the testing until post surgery (early April).
One of the things I hate most about adulting is scheduling doctor appointments. And going to doctor appointments. I guess I'll learn how to do this better.
Today was another day of doctors.
This morning I had my annual check in with my "sleep doctor". I have sleep apnea and use a cpap when I sleep. Every year I have to check in so insurance will still help with paying for the cpap machine and parts. yay. Nothing has changed there.
Then I had my first MRI.
Spring fashion is HERE folks!
Ha. Don't forget your mask.
MRI's are weird. And my life is weird in that I appreciated the 30 minutes of nothing to do but think. Yes, the machines are loud, but the noises were surprisingly melodic. Full of rhythm and pitch. Or maybe my mind is just totally overtaxed. That's totally possible.
And my third stop of the day was for my first shot of the COVID-19 vaccine. My newfound cancer status made me eligible in Utah guidelines for an qualifying underlying condition. Yay? Silver lining?
And I'm over here still feeling grateful for the position I am in. Grateful for the flexibility to take time out of my day to do what I needed to do. Grateful I have insurance. I'm still panicking about how we're going to pay for the out of pocket maximum that I know we'll hit, but I guess we'll figure that out. And grateful for science. For early detection, treatment options, and knowledgeable doctors, physicians, and nurses.
