Not so lucky

The day of my surgery all I did was sleep, it was kind of nice. The part was that I couldn't do anything with my son. He's one ya see and thinks people are jungle gyms, which would not have been good with fresh wounds that had been sewn shut that morning! So bed it was for me, luckily it was close to the bathroom if I needed it. I was off for two weeks post-surgery and it was nice to be able to rest and recover. I watched a lot of movies and caught up on some TV shows. I'm really into How to Get Away with Murder now!

So a week and a half goes by and I go in for my check up with the surgeon. Thankfully I really like the doctor's office or I would have been worn out by now. I check in with her and everything looked good healing wise, but there was some bad-ish news - it was another hurry up and wait game with another test. This test was going to determine whether or not I would need to go through chemotherapy. This test gives numbered results from 0-50. If I were to score 0-18 I would be considered "low risk" for recurrence and chemo would give limited benefits. When I heard this, I hoped and prayed for a "failing" score, which I don't think I have ever done in my life!

She projected that my results would be in the following Tuesday. Well Tuesday came and went with no phone call from the surgeon, so I tried to forget about it hoping it was a good sign. Nope. The call came the next day with some not so great news. 25. That was my score. A freaking 25. Another "gray area" result in this process. Great.

So this meant that I had to do the one thing I was really trying to avoid if I could, chemotherapy. As soon as she told me what that score meant, I hung up the phone and bawled. That was the first time I really cried about the cancer, about what I would have to go through, about what my family will have to endure. It was awful and terrifying all wrapped in the unknown. I couldn't contain the tears, they just kept coming. For two days I didn't want to do anything but cry. Not only do I have to go through chemo, but I have to do it through the holidays, what a great present that's going to be.

Now I was just hoping my appointment with the medical oncologist the next day was going to be some good news. That I get to do the "easier" chemo and maybe it'll only be a pill and maybe I won't lose my hair or maybe I won't have to really do it. NOPE, not my luck, but that's for another post and another time.

It's a good thing I like the color pink, because I think everything I own will soon be pink.

AD

Hurry up and wait.

When we last left off, I was telling you how many doctors I had to see. And let me tell you again, A LOT! Let's recap all of the doctors I have seen so far: OB/GYN, breast specialist, surgical oncologist, genetics, reproductive specialist, and a plastic surgeon. Again, A LOT of doctors. This was the norm for cancer patients I was beginning to realize.

Out of all of my new appointments, then genetic counselor was the more terrifying. I am the first person in my ENTIRE family to be diagnosed with breast cancer, so we weren't thinking it was a genetic mutation, but then again I am 26 year old with cancer which is also not normal. After the counseling session, we decided to go through with the high risk gene panel, which would take 2-3 weeks to get results. The hard part was my surgery was schedule for 20 days out (so we were hoping for the shorter end of that time-frame). Let me tell you that luck just wasn't on my side. Two weeks after my appointment, still no results. But I did have my consultations with the reproductive specialist and plastic surgeon, which made me feel more comfortable, at least for now.

About a week out from surgery I was going crazy because there was still no news about my genetic testing! I called the counselor three or four times because I needed to feel like I was doing something! Thankfully I had a great counselor who understood that I was scared and frustrated and she let me know that as soon as she heard anything, she would call. So a few days before my surgery, I still didn't exactly know what procedure I was going to have done: lumpectomy or bi-lateral mastectomy? It was a horrible feeling for a control freak like myself. 

After a few days I talked with the genetic counselor again, and after talking with the lab directly, my results would be in early the next week (my surgery was scheduled for Wednesday). I was slightly freaked out, but thankfully the nurse from my surgeon's office called and solidified a plan; we were going ahead with surgery as scheduled with removing the tumor and if need be I would have a secondary surgery later. While this isn't exactly the news I wanted, I was very glad to have a plan in place going forward.

My surgery was scheduled for 7:30AM on Wednesday, October 29th which meant I had to be at the hospital by 5:30AM. While I was glad to be a morning surgery, getting to the hospital while it's still dark out was not my cup of tea. I had a big crew with me that morning as well: Colin, my mom, stepdad, stepmom, dad, and brother were all there! They brought me up to pre-op quickly and then we went through the routine of answering, "Name? D.O.B?". I've gotten really good at answering those questions before even being asked now!

My pre-op nurse was great and made it a little easier to relax (she found a vein quickly for my IV, which always helps). I was the first patient of the morning for my doctor, so everything was running smoothly and on time. When I saw my surgeon that morning, we talked about the genetic testing and how those results STILL weren't in. I said to her, "I don't care at this point when they come in, as long as it's not today or I'll be so angry!" Guess what... yea you got it right. They came in WHILE I WAS IN SURGERY! And the worst part of all of this... they couldn't tell me anything about the results. I did have a genetic mutation on the BRCA2 gene, but they weren't sure what that meant. The counselor said it could be a year, five years, or even ten years before they discover what that certain mutation means. So it was a bunch of hurry up and wait for no real answer, awesome!

Besides receiving the genetic results the day of my surgery, everything went swimmingly. They removed the tumor and two lymph nodes just as a precaution. I had some good medicine to help with the pain and recovery and slept a lot. So the hard part was done... or so I thought.

Until next time. And always remember...

AD

And so it begins.

So where did I leave off?

Oh yea, I was on vacation in Florida. I miss the beach, the sunshine, and the tranquility. But in addition to all of that, I had a huge weight I was carrying around, the cancer diagnosis. Thankfully I didn't really have to do anything or even think hard for that matter while we were in Florida. The breast specialist sent my biopsy results to my OB/GYN's office and unbeknownst to me, had scheduled an appointment with a surgical oncologist.

My first reaction when they called me with this information was, "I'm not available, I'll be in Cleveland for work." It took me a minute to realize (after saying this out loud to my mom) that I was crazy. Of course this would work and I'm sure if I shared my diagnosis with work that everything would be covered.

Share my diagnosis... could I really do that? It was hard enough sharing that news with family, wouldn't telling my co-workers make it even more real? First, I emailed my boss who had no idea I had even had testing done. Then I emailed everyone else who knew I had a biopsy done. This sucked. After sharing this horrible, heartbreaking, punch in the gut news I never could have imagined the kind of encouragement and support I would receive. Everyone was rooting for me, I really did have an army behind me. Once I realized that, I knew I could fight and fight hard.

So on to another doctor's appointment (you'll see that a lot in this).

I was in Cleveland traveling for work that week, so I stayed with my mom and we woke up dark and early at 5AM so we could leave for Columbus by 6AM for the appointment. At this point it hadn't really sunk in yet who I was going to see... I had to see a "cancer doctor".

Thankfully the appointment went well and I received a lot of good reading material (not stuff I was every HOPING to read, but what the hell). I was going to have an MRI (which my army scheduled for that night), genetic testing (which my army scheduled for that day), consultations with both a plastic surgeon and a reproductive specialist, and scheduled my surgery. So within a few weeks I will have seen seven doctors, SEVEN. That is insane. I had a hard time keeping names straight after that.

After this day, I knew this journey was going to be a long one and hopefully I was up for the fight (of course I was/am, I'm me).

Thank you for taking this journey with me. And remember to always...

AD

The start of it all.

Before my diagnosis I wasn't your typical 26 year old. I am a wife and a mother. Most of my friends aren't even in serious relationships and I'm married with a baby boy (16 months old really, so he's more of a toddler now). But I digress.

This journey started back on September 13th. It was like any other Saturday in Columbus, OH, planned around the Ohio State football game. I was up with my little one and husband around 7:30 AM and we were hanging out like usual. I was getting ready to take my shower when I got a searing pain in my breasts. It felt like I was being stabbed from the inside out. I felt around to see if I was bruised and may have not known, but my husband didn't see anything unusual. So I let it be, but the pain continued. I felt around my left breast (since that is where the pain was localized) and that's when I felt it. A lump.

I panicked, I didn't know what to do. I made my husband feel it to make sure I wasn't just imagining. He did and my first reaction was "what do I do now"? I was in a daze, I didn't want this to be happening. He insisted that I call my doctor, but it was Saturday they weren't open. SO I did the next best thing, email. I got an urgent message from my doctor's office Monday morning, they wanted me in ASAP. I was already at work, but I hopped back in my car and was at their office by 9:00 AM.

This time I knew I wasn't crazy, the doctor even felt the lump. She did not hesitate and sent me a referral to a breast specialist. I scheduled that appointment for Thursday the 18th. Thursday came and went and I had an ultrasound and a mammogram and then had to schedule a biopsy because it was abnormal. As soon as I heard that word "abnormal" I knew this wouldn't be good for me. I'm not the luckiest of people and somehow in the back of my mind I just knew this was cancer.

Originally my biopsy was scheduled for Friday the 26th, the day before I would leave for vacation with my mom, step dad, and son in Florida. I'm an Admission Counselor and this was travel season, my schedule was not conducive to scheduling a doctor's appointment. After calling my mom and husband and telling them when it was scheduled, they were not happy that I was waiting over a week to get this done! So I called back and rescheduled the biopsy for Wednesday the 24th.

That day I was out doing two high school visits, but luckily I was done by lunchtime. I met my mom at my house and we set off for the office. The biopsy itself wasn't too bad, but my shoulder had dislocated and made my arm numb during the procedure. I left and we go lunch, did a little shopping, and finally returned home to my husband and son.

The next day was fine, no real worries. The doctor said it would take about 2-3 days for the results of the biopsy and that usually they came in between 1-4 PM. I told her I wanted to know either way, on Friday or Monday (I would be in Florida on vacation). Knowing that my results could be in Friday afternoon, I was a WRECK. Luckily I was busy in the office, but I couldn't eat or sit still. I always had to be doing something and I was worrying myself sick. Finally at 3:45 PM I realized my results wouldn't be in today and I could finally relax a little. I ate some fruit and got back to work, I had to prepare to be out of the office for TWO weeks with vacation and then travel in Cleveland. So thankfully I had much to do.

The weekend came and went in Florida and I was happy to be on the beach seeing my little guy in the sand and water for the first time! It was exciting, beautiful, relaxing, and tranquil- just what I needed after the past couple weeks. Monday rolled around and we were down at the beach as usual in the morning and I didn't bring my phone, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the results, I just knew it was going to be bad news. After lunch we took a walk on the beach and came back to a missed call. It was a 614 number so I knew it HAD to be my doctor. Sure enough the voice mail confirmed that and I called her back.

We spent the first few minutes on the phone talking about vacation and my son. Then came the hard part - she broke the news that one of my biopsies (the lump I had felt) came back malignant. Never once did she use the word "cancer", but obviously I knew what a malignant tumor meant. Strangely I didn't really cry, I shed one or two tears and then I was done. I got off the phone and had to break the news to my mom and step dad waiting in the other room. It was the first time that I had said it out loud. "I have breast cancer."

Those were four of the hardest words I have had to say in my 26 year life. Even harder than telling my family and friends that I had a miscarriage.

Then came the harder part - telling my husband who was at home without me or our son to comfort him. Then that became the hardest thing I had to do in my 26 years. I wasn't sad or feeling sorry for myself, I was PISSED. Why me? Someone my age shouldn't get cancer, let alone breast cancer! This wasn't fair and I wanted nothing more than a stiff drink (which my step dad readily got for me, thank you tequila) and to punch something (which I didn't get to do, sadly).

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this would be the result, but it's still hard to hear those words coming out of your own mouth. This was only the very beginning of my journey.

-AD