Monday, March 25, 2013

How We Got To This Place...

It all started one rainy night in October....er, maybe it wasn't rainy, or, even nighttime; but, it was October. I had recently gotten over a cold that was passed back and forth between Avery and I like a fierce Japanese ping pong tournament. Consequently, I had developed a cough that left a lingering ache in my chest. Despite it being inconvenient, I didn't really think much of it and just tried to wait it out. I gave it about four weeks before I finally went to see my primary doctor whom agreed with me about the origin of my chest pain and prescribed a round of steroids to try and knock it out. The Prednisone didn't really do anything and instead, my pain started to creep around to my back as well.

After a couple of weeks, the pain began to intensify. The chest pain made it difficult to expand and take deep breaths while the back pain was quickly becoming debilitating. I went back for a follow-up appointment with my doctor and he ordered a chest x-ray which came back clear. In the meantime, I also sought out chiropractic care, massage therapy, and tried making dietary changes and staying extra hydrated. One day the pain would be in my rib cage and the next day my lower back would make it impossible to bend over and change Avery's diaper. I was beginning to feel crazy because the pain moved to a different spot, almost daily, and felt like my doctor and chiro were just appeasing me, while secretly thinking I was a hallucinating nut job. Finally, after ruling out basic ailments, my doctor decided to delve deeper into the issue and look for causes that would be less common by ordering a bone scan. That bone scan was scheduled to be Wednesday, January, 23.

Unrelated to these issues, I also had my annual gynological exam scheduled for that same week on Monday, January, 21. I had originally scheduled this appointment for the first week of November, but traveling and other commitments kept interfering, so I rescheduled the appointment three times before I was finally able to go. In my mind, there wasn't any urgency to get to this appointment since it was just a yearly exam. My gyno, Nicole, is great and we had developed a very friendly relationship since I had spent so much time going back and forth to her office during my pregnancy. I was laying on the table and we were chatting while she was doing my breast exam. As she was examining my left breast, she paused and said, "Hmm...it feels like you have a bit of a lump here." I was pretty shocked, yet unconcerned, as my she guided my fingers over the side of my breast, gently pushing so I could feel the lump. When she did so, I definitely felt what she had found but it seemed fairly deep inside and you really had to knead the area to feel it. Nicole didn't seem alarmed but did recommend that I get a mammogram as soon as possible.

Suprisingly, the scheduling of both appointments aligned on the same day; although, I ended up feeling like I was in a pinball machine, ricocheting from department to department. When I arrived for my bone scan, I was initally given an IV injection and then I was instructed to wait for two hours while the tracer processed through my blood and bones. From there, I went to the breast center and prepared for the ultrasound and mammogram. This appointment was supposed to take less than one hour, but quickly doubled in time as I was ushered in and out of the treatment rooms three times. First, they did the initial ultrasound and mammogram and then I waited. Then, they wanted to look more closely so they repeated both. Then, they saw concern with my right breast and wanted to test that side, so I went in a third time. Then, I just waited. And, then, I waited some more. As I waited in a small waiting room, I watched a video on repeat about how to do a self-exam. I think I watched that video segment about fourteen times before the radiologist was finally ready to see me. It was a very brief meeting in which he expressed no further concern for my right breast, but ample concern for the lumps in my left breast and recommended a biopsy right away. Yes, lumps. It was then that I learned that I have two "tumors," in my left breast. I put the word tumors in quotation marks because I think it is a gross word; but alas, I still use it because it resounded very loudly in my memory as I walked out of the breast center and headed back to complete my bone scan. If my life were a movie, this would be where you would cue the pounding thoughts and a slow walk down an extremely long and sterile hallway. I can't say that I was worried yet, but it was growing a little more difficult to stifle my anxiety.

The bone scan went on without incident and then I was just left waiting for results again. Although, this time, the results would take days so I decided to get the hell outta dodge and left the next morning, Avery in tow, for a weekend of solitude. It was over that weekend that I first began noticing the changes in my left breast that hadn't been there before. I noticed when I got out of the shower, that my breast puckered inward on the side, where one of the lumps was. At some point, it had also started burning and rather than pushing in to find the lump, I could simply touch my breast and it was there now. The other lump was on top of my breast and whereas I hadn't even known of it's existence two days prior, it now protruded like a small hill if I was laying down. It didn't take long to start noticing these changes, but thankfully, it also didn't take long to hear from my doctor, as he wanted me to come in on Monday to discuss the results. In the interest of consolidating my appointments again, I scheduled my biopsy for that day as well.

It was 2:00pm on Monday January 28, 2013 that I first heard the word cancer. My doctor said that I had been the topic of conversation amongst many collaborating physcians over the last five days. It was their consensus, based on the results of my ultrasound/mammogram and the bone scan that I was looking advanced breast cancer; but, of course, the biopsy would have to confirm those results. Too be honest, I hadn't prepared myself for this moment. Yes, I knew I had two lumps... but cancer... was not even on my realistic radar. I figured I had cysts of some sort and while I was temporarily validated that my chest/back pain were not a serious case of crazy, I never anticipated having cancer. I'm 29 years old and I'm healthy. I just had my first child and now you want to tell me that I've been using Ibuprofen for the last three months to fight cancer??? It was sort of an out-of-body experience. I was listening to my doctor speak, but I wasn't really reacting. I didn't cry and to be honest, I didn't ask any questions. I just said ok and within 20 minutes of pretending to listen to him, I was collecting my purse and coat, ready to head upstairs to do the biopsy. I was ready for proof.

At 4:00 that afternoon, I met with the breast surgeon who would conduct my needle biopsy. He was funny and he was frank, which are two qualities that I greatly appreciate. I don't like to be coddled or handled softly in situations like this, I prefer honesty and to get to the point. It wasn't long before I found myself lying on his examination table with my arms above my head. For Pete's sake, this position was becoming all to familiar, I hadn't been felt up this much since I was a teenager heading toward first base. At this point though, the fear had started to set in. Although, my fear still wasn't of cancer; but instead, the large needle that was going to be pushed inside my breast, open like a claw and steal a sample of my insides. When I get nervous in serious medical situations, my blood pressure drops drastically. The last time that happened to me was during my c-section the previous June when the anthesiologist missed, 4 times, while doing my spinal block. My blood pressure plummeted and delivering Avery became a higher level of urgency. At the end of that experience, I was blessed with an amazing gift. On the day of my biopsy, though, I was not going to be as lucky.

Needless to say I survived the boobie snatcher with the help of my hand-holding, head-rubbing husband, Patrick, and thus, the doctor was able to get three samples. Despite the fact that my official-official diagnosis would not come until Wednesday, January, 31st, this very frank and honest breast surgeon was able to confirm that I do have breast cancer. It was a lot to absorb... for everyone. My mom had been there every step of the way so far, being by my side and asking the questions that I don't. After I assured her that I would be fine and she should go be with my dad, who was just finding out; I went over to my in-laws to break the news.

When I walked in the door that night, my sister-in-law Danielle (who had already been clued in via text) gave me a hug and told me I looked cute. In an effort to lighten the mood, I quipped, "Well, I dressed cute for cancer!" Hence, the name of my blog. And also because, I have made the choice that I will continue to get up everyday and put on makeup, do my hair, and presumably, dress cute. Cancer is not going to take over my life, I'm still me and I'm still going to do what I do. Am I afraid? Actually, no, I'm really not. I certainly have specific fears, mostly related to my daughter's future; but I know that right now I need to show her what strength is.

A followup oncology appointment confirmed that my official diagnosis is Stage 4 Breast Cancer that is er/pr positive and has mestastasized in my bones. The bones affected include my sternum, ribs, spine, shoulders, pelvis, and hips. Cancer likes to rear its ugly head and try to remind me that its there by causing me a lot of pain in those areas, pain like I've never had and cannot adequately explain. The er/pr positive means that my cancer (<--see that, "MY" cancer...I own it, not the other way around.) is hormone receptive... er (estrogen receptive)/ pr (progesterone receptive) and that is a good thing. That means, for now, I can bypass chemo/radiation be treated with a drug called Tamoxifen. Tamoxifen is a pill that I take daily to block the hormones, which will hopefully prevent the cancer cells from growing. Additionally, I get a monthly injection which will help repair and strengthen my bones and I take medicine to manage my bone pain in the meantime. My oncologist thinks that I've actually had breast cancer for about two years but the growth was sped up by the hormones produced during my pregnacy.


Cancer is an ugly disease and it is usually a heavy topic. But, I don't let it affect me that way; instead, I make jokes. So beware- if you continue to read my blog, I hope any and all tears are a result of uncontrollable (or...polite....) laughter. Because I really do have a beautiful life to fight for and I'm going to be just fine.