The Good, The Bad, The Bony

Just once, I'd like to visit my oncologist or my surgeon (or my GP for that matter!!,) and get some genuinely *good*  news. Especially news which is good, which stands on its own, which isn't good by comparison to the "bad" news.
Sadly, today was not really that day.

I finally got the results of my PET scan from last Saturday.
Don't freak out; I'm not, yet.

The good news? All of my internal organs are clear.
The bad news? My bones were not so lucky.
The ugly news? I get a bone biopsy next week for confirmation.

Needless to say, chemo is on hold until we get more biopsy results.  Tentatively, I'll start chemo the second week of September...

Here's why I'm not exactly losing my mind right now: there's a fancy-pants chemo drug that targets bone.

Let's cross our fingers.... again.

Limbo

I'm in the weird post-diagnosis, pre-chemo state of cancer.

I've already had the strange glances at the port on my chest, people asking if I'm OK while pointedly staring at the incisions... Is is wrong that I said, "No, I'm fine..." to someone at work? Is it worse that I told the truth to the very next person who asked? I feel almost guilty when I tell the truth to some people and withhold from others. I feel strange when I say "I'm fine" when, technically, I'm not. I feel even more strange if there's a rush of emotion, and I find my voice cracking when I say, "I have cancer." That makes me feel like a fraud.
I feel like I've already failed to live up to the "survivor" label every time I have to assure someone that it's not a matter of *if* I lose my hair, but *when* I lose it, and that my preparation is not a sign that I've (already) given up.

I probably sound ungrateful right now, but really, I'm not. I know that I'm profoundly lucky to have so many people thinking about me and praying for me and helping me.

It's a dichotomy.
I'm supposed to be appropriately somber. I must be unapologetically courageous. I should have ridiculous optimism.
Unfortunately, on my best days, I'm crass. I have a twisted sense of humor. I'm a cynic.

I'm much more likely to tell a off-color cancer joke than lead a kumbaya.

If my joke is funny, though, please laugh with me.

Filling in the ________

I re-read yesterday's post. Yesterday's events all seems rather foggy now, so I'm glad I wrote it last night. 

Currently:

I'm in a haze of pain killers, which really aren't killing the pain as much as just tempering it a bit. I'm ridiculously sore. The incisions on my chest and in my armpit are tender, and look like I've been toyed with by a very selective fetishist. I don't have any stitches, because my surgeon super-glued the incisions closed with DermaBond and covered the sites with a liquid bandage. They're all shiny, a little swollen, pink, and "new" looking. Also, I "found" 2 electrode stickers on my body from the surgery last night. Yes, it's a little disconcerting, but let's all cross our fingers that those were the only items "forgotten" from my surgery yesterday. 

Surgery Virgin

I've never had surgery of any kind, been put under general anesthesia, or had any kind of procedure that required scalpels or IV drips...until today. I've been dreading today since I got my diagnosis, probably as much as I dread the day I have to shave my head.

I've been worried about the general anesthesia, not so much the going-under part as much as the rejoining-the-conscious-world part. My sister and brother have both had several surgeries, so I was able to talk to them about surgery and what to expect. My sister did a good job of explaining the details of what would happen, but she also cautioned that she and my brother both have terrible potty mouths when they come out of anesthesia. They've both cursed out doctors, nurses, family members, etc. Sometimes the thrash about, threaten to yank out IVs, and generally behave like asses for a few minutes when they come to. My mom confirmed this today, as we were walking into the hospital. She also said that my brother was so terribly behaved after one surgery that the anesthesiologist actually said to her, "Yeah, we're going to give him something to let him take another little nap. Then we'll try to wake him up again and see if his attitude's improved." Funny? Sadly, yes. Embarrassing? Terribly.

Heavy PETting

I am radioactive today. I am not allowed to shake babies or hug pregnant women until tomorrow.
I had a PET scan this morning. The lovely radiology tech injected my "perfect vein!" with a radioactive solution and I got to relax in a comfy chair for about 45 minutes before I laid on a hard bed and was shuttled (very s-l-o-w-l-y) back and forth through a white plastic tube for about 25 minutes. The tech said I didn't move a muscle. I guess all that practice in shavasana at the end of yoga practice has helped me after all.

The tech said that she is sending all the image results to the radiologist today, probably it's already in his/her hands, and that my oncologist should be able to look at it Monday. I have to go in for pre-op testing Monday afternoon, so I'll probably be impatient enough by then to contact the oncologist or my aunt to see what's up...

The Calm Before

The past two days have seemed relatively normal. No doctor appointments, no strangers fondling my oversized right breast, no medical tests...
The only times I've had that twinge of panic/fear is when the oncologist called to schedule my PET scan for this Saturday (which is actually tomorrow) and when my surgeon called to schedule my Port-a-Cath placement surgery for Tuesday....and right this second, because I'm writing about it.
It's beginning to seem a bit more "real" to me. I'm not in denial, but feeling sort of out-of-body right now. like I'm watching it happen and waiting...

Oncology, Part 1

It's only been a few days now, but it really feels like I live at the hospital.
My nurse at the oncology office is my aunt, so I feel very comfortable with that situation. She offered to keep my mom in the loop so I don't have to for now. I'm really thankful that she is willing to do that, because I could regurgitate everything I tried to absorb from today's visit on this blog, but I really don't have the energy to do it over and over again.
So, without further ado:

Diagnose this

I saw my surgeon and my nurse today for the official diagnosis & plan of attack. They gave me a huge binder full of reading material, big hugs and pep-talks. My nurse is a 12-year cancer survivor. My aunt is the nurse practitioner for my oncologist, whom I get to meet tomorrow.
I spent all weekend stressed and worried, and all day today distracted and on edge, mostly because my imagination loves to run wild speculating on the myriad ways I could die from this.
That aside, it is just nice to know *which* particular invader has taken up lodging in my breast, and especially great to have such an awesome team of doctors & nurses to take care of me right now.

So, the official diagnosis is a Triple Positive Breast Cancer, meaning my tumor is hormone fed (bye-bye birth control....) and  very fast growing/aggressive. Luckily, we caught it pretty early, but we're pretty sure it's already spread to the lymph nodes in my right breast (where the tumor is.)
I see the oncologist tomorrow, probably will have a PET scan on Saturday. Then I get a port installed for chemotherapy next week, and start the chemotherapy anywhere from 1-3 days after getting the port installed.

Once I've had a few rounds of chemotherapy, and the tumor responds (fingers crossed,) I'll have a lumpectomy followed by radiation.

 I'm overwhelmed and everything is happening so fast, so I'm sure I'm not emotionally processing anything right now.
At this point, my focus is to get through this week. I'll worry about the rest later.

The Big C

My doctor called.
I have cancer.

I don't know what kind, but we scheduled an appointment for Monday at 3pm. She should have more information about the type of cancer and should be able to give me a better idea of how we can treat it.

I need a drink.

Biopsy

Went to my biopsy appointment. I was supposed to get breast tissue samples & lymph node samples taken, but I am ridiculously ticklish, especially when I'm nervous, so I couldn't be still enough for the lymph node samples.
So now, I have a small incision under my breast which is now covered with steri-strips to keep it from opening/bleeding, a few missing bits of breast tissue, and brand new metal marker in my boob.
It's already sore, tender, achy.

My doctor should call me with preliminary results from the biopsy tomorrow. I know I'm not going to be able to function at work while waiting for her call.

MRI results

My doctor called me this morning. She has already scheduled a biopsy for me tomorrow.
I freaked out on my co-workers, but they were all understanding. I left work because I just couldn't find the energy for phone tech support when my brain really wants to focus on the worst scenario imaginable.

MRI

I was able to find a piercing studio and have 3 of my stainless steel piercings switched for acrylic.

I went in for the MRI at 6:15am. I changed into baggy ridiculous ugly scrubs and the technician gave me an IV for the contrast dye infusion.
He asked me if I had a special request for music... I asked for techno. I got house. Close enough.

A female tech helped me get settled on the "bed" of the MRI machine, face down & topless. I got headphones faintly pulsing with electronic music.
I know I must have fallen asleep for most of the procedure. After all, I can fall asleep just about anywhere/anytime.
I do remember when the contrast dye was mechanically injected into my arm. My fingers got cold, my lips tingled and I smelled/tasted metal.

Once the procedure was finished, I felt dizzy. I'm not sure if it was because I was suddenly awake and mobile after remaining so still for over an hour, or if it was just a side effect from the contrast dye.

Breast Specialist Doc

I saw a new doctor today. She's a surgeon who specializes in breast health. She did an exam, and scheduled me for an MRI for tomorrow morning.
I get to find the elusive piercing shop that is open on Mondays so that I can replace all the surgical stainless steel in my body with acrylic.
Really big magnets + stainless steel in sensitive bits = NO FUN.

Lump

It all started with a regular visit to my GP. I see her about every 3 months, since I get prescriptions for controlled substances to treat mild narcolepsy and ADD.
We decided it was time to have the gyno/breast exam portion of our visit. She found a lump.
She wrote me a referral to have a mammogram & sent me on my way.
I sometimes have lumpy boobs, so I really just thought it would go away after a while.
I really wish I could have a do-over on that decision to wait it out.
I finally got a mammogram and sonogram done. The doctor who looked at my mammogram and sonogram results decided that I should try a course of antibiotics, to rule out an infection of the breast tissue.

I finished that 10-day course of antibiotics with no change in my right breast, much to my dismay.