In May I found a lump in my breast. Now, I am used to that. In 2003, I found a lump. I had a mammogram, an ultrasound, and then had it biopsied and was diagnosed as having a fibroadenoma. It's a benign tumor and the most common tumor in women under 30. The Dr gave me the option of having it removed surgically, but said unless it really bothered me he suggested leaving it. I was 21 and not wanting surgery. So I left it.
So, with that being said, I know its there and when I do my checks I just make sure it hasn't grown. Well, in May, my fibroadenoma seemed to have blown up in size, and practically overnight it seemed. After going back and forth for a couple of days, ( I have white coat syndrome - not a fan of doctors. And watching my dad battle cancer in HS, I'm also not a fan of cancer, but then again who is?!) I made an appointment with my gyn. for a breast exam. She gave me an exam, reassured me, but made me an appointment for a mammogram and ultrasound the next day. I went home fairly certain that it was nothing to worry about and there was an explanation besides what we all dread as women.
That Friday, I went for the imaging. Not the most comfortable of situations normally, but when there is uncertainty, it makes it even more nerve wracking. The lady who did the mammogram was kind and reassuring. The ultrasound tech and the radiologist - not so much. Lots of concerning noises, and knowing looks between the two. The diagnosis? "You need to schedule a biopsy asap" When I began asking questions, all I was told was "There's a letter by your purse." And then they left.
The letter? "Your imaging today noted breast abnormalities. You need to schedule a biopsy." Well thank you for that wealth of information! This was a Friday. Although at this point my positive thinking was starting to crack, I still held on to the notion that it was nothing major.
So the next Tuesday was my appointment with a general surgeon for a biopsy. I had not told anyone about what was going on, except Jay and my Mom, but for some reason I sorta blurted it out to 2 teammates on the playground this day (in the end, thank goodness I did). My last biopsy was a needle biopsy, painful, but an office visit sort of procedures. That is what I was expecting, so Jay came with me. My appointment was at 3:30.
The Dr. came in, took a look at me. Asked a ton of questions (some times several times) and kept looking at my with grave concern. He tells me he wants to do a surgical biopsy..the next morning! By 4:30, I was now scared, sitting in pre op admissions and labs, and texting my CRT to try to arrange a sub for the next day. It was all happening so fast that I couldn't really wrap my mind around it.
I wanted answers, though, and the sooner the better. So...I had my biopsy. I can't lie, I cried A LOT that morning I was so scared. The sweet nurse held my hand while rolling me in the operating room as I couldn't stop the tears. They rolled me in the operating room and I lost it. Luckily, the nurse was very caring until the meds kicked in.
I woke up in recovery and was ready to go home. I went home, went to bed, trying to pass the hours before we would get the pathology results.
The next afternoon, the Dr called. Pathology came back saying fibroadenoma with questionable characteristics. He further tells me he was convinced I had inflammatory breast cancer and had already started at looking at me starting chemo the next week. However, he was still not comfortable with the diagnosis and wanted to remove the entire tumor.
I was so on board with this - I just wanted it out of them. He spent some time discussing what this meant for my breast. The tumor was softball sized. He gave me all the worst scenarios of what it could end up looking like. I did not care. I wanted it out.
So..the next day I was scheduled for Surgery #2. Once again, I was scared, but knew it needed to happen and would rather him do it now before the incision healed. I was truly at peace with the decision. My mom kept asking , "Are you sure you are okay? Or are you lying to me for my benefit" I really was pretty calm. My wonderful Dad took the red eye from LA, then drove (like a mad man I'm sure) from Orlando to be there for my 8:00 surgery.
The preop nurse came in to discuss my procedure, a partial mastectomy, with me. It was the first time I had heard the official procedure. The word "mastectomy" (even with partial) made me tear up a bit, but once again, I knew it needed to be done.
This time, rolling into the operating room wasn't as traumatic, but I still cried (and felt like a big ol baby), but once again a caring nurse comforted me.
This time around, I woke up and felt like I was hit by a semi. The car ride home was AWFUL!! I had an incision basically from my nipple to the middle of my chest and 27 staples. Yes, staples... So many feelings about that, but I'll save that. Luckily it was Memorial Day weekend, so I had an extra day to recover.
I spent the weekend mostly laying on the couch, spending QT with my fantastic nurses - my dad and Jay. By the day after surgery I was able to get up with minimal help and was moving around. Now sleeping...forget about it. I am NOT a back sleeper, so yeah that was fun.
I was back to work on Tuesday (3 days post op Surgery #2) I was slow moving and a little achy because I stopped taking my pain meds, but happy to be back in the groove.
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