December 2, 2016 - December 5, 2016
After what seemed like forever, I finally had all three of my tests scheduled.
The first one was the genetic testing. My sister had this test done voluntarily and hers was a swab in the mouth. Mine was an actual blood test. No big deal, standard needle in the arm, draw some blood, done.
The PET Scan was next. I had never had one of these before and had no idea what to expect. I thought it would be like an MRI but it was quite different.
First thing is the nurse did was put me in this little room, in a super comfy recliner, and told me to find whatever television station I liked. Then she left. I had no idea why. Although everyone there was nice, no one actually explained to me yet what was going on or why I was watching Law & Order reruns. I decided to make the best out of it and kicked off my boots and cuddled into the chair until the nurse came back.
When the nurse did come back she finally explained what was going to happen. They were going to get an IV in so they could put some radioactive chemical in me, then I would sit for 45 minutes while that stuff went through my veins and then I would get the actual scan for about 20 minutes.
She put the IV in me, no problem and then opened a thick, heavy metal box. The chemical inside was literally guarded by the thickest looking metal container possible. I asked her what the deal with all the metal was and she said it was limit their exposure to it since it was nuclear. That made me feel pretty good about the fact that it was going through my veins.
The nurse then brought me a big cup of something and told me that I needed to drink as much of it as possible within the first 20 minutes of sitting there. Her exact words were "Don't make yourself sick, but try to get it down."
It looked like a very watered down vanilla milkshake. It did not taste like a very watered down vanilla milkshake. It tasted like a watered down gag me shake. I spent the next few minutes texting my mom and googling what the heck I was drinking. I found my answer on Google about the same time that I realized the answer was printed on the side of the cup. Barium. I was drinking barium. I don't recommend it.
The barium apparently coats your insides so everything is easier to see during the PET Scan.
After my 45 minute wait, I was put into the actual x-ray machine. The best part of this, I didn't even have to undress! As long you're not wearing any underwire bras, you're good to go in your hoodie and sweats!
You lay on a sliding bed that moves slowly into a covered x-ray machine. It's not painful. It's not entertaining. It's a very boring and uneventful test. The worst part, and the only uncomfortable part, is that you have to keep your arms above your head the whole time. This may not seem like a big deal, but circulation quickly goes away when keeping your arms in this position. I basically just kept my eyes shut and tried to count down the time that I was in there. I was not very successful in keeping count, but at least it kept my mind busy and somewhat off the fact that my fingers were tingly.
The third, and final test, was the MRI. An MRI on your breast is actually slightly amusing. First, they put an IV in your arm. Then they somehow expect you to gracefully get yourself in a face down position on the bed without bending the arm with the IV in it. The bed looks like a massage table with a empty space cut out for your boobies to hang out in. Once you're face down, the technician then has to adjust that space, and your boobies, so they are boxed in and ready to be imaged. Oh, did I mention that your arms have to be straight up over your head again? Only this time, since you're on your stomach, you're basically in the superman flying position.
They slowly move you into the machine and the technician tells you how long each scan will be. 2 minutes, 4 minutes, 7 minutes, etc. During these scans, you have to be perfectly still and try to breathe evenly. That's a joke. Trying to breathe evenly while laying with your rib cage expanded from your superman arms and your boobs being trapped in a box is pretty impossible.
I spent the entire time yelling at myself, "Stop moving, AnnaMarie.", "Slow down the breathing, girl", "You're going to get scolded by the technician if you don't slow it down!" It was a stressful test. At some point they put the magic chemical in my arm and then scanned me for another 8 minutes or so and then it was done. Fingers tingly, shoulders sore, but overall painless.
Next step was to hope the results came back quickly because I had an appointment with my oncologist later that week. Fingers crossed these tests didn't slow down the process.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
The Breast Cancer Specialist
November 10, 2016
Mom and I went to meet the specialist together. This is where we would find out what my treatment would be and what the next step was.
My specialist was highly recommended by several doctors in the area so I felt confident in her even before meeting her. When she walked in and begun to speak, I felt even more at ease. She was very nice AND has an English accent of sort and that makes everything sound better. Even the word Cancer sounds better with an accent. It just does.
She didn't waste much time, which was nice, we got right down to business. We talked about family history and how my mother and grandmother, and great grandmother, all had to deal with breast cancer before me.
I would need to have a double mastectomy and be treated with chemotherapy. The treatment decision was made easy with the fact that I had family history and I didn't have to worry about hurting any reproduction organs, since mine didn't cooperate much anyway.
Dr. O'Neill thought I would have surgery first, and then chemo afterwards. I think this was based on knowing already that the double mastectomy was the plan. The final decision would be based on some test results that I would need to have.
And that was the next step - scheduling three different tests: a PET scan, an MRI and genetic testing blood work.
Let me tell you, my frustration and stress was high on these tests. No one cares about the timing of these things and the fact that you have a life threatening disease and you can't get treatment until these tests are complete. After weeks of waiting, I had to put the hammer down, put on my sassy pants and start calling everyone to the point of annoyance. I annoyed the specialists office until they faxed over the referrals again. Then I called the imaging centers and diagnostic center everyday after that. And I even then ruthlessly emailed my healthcare advocate at my insurance company for help. And actually, my healthcare advocate was the only one who seemed to care. She went out of her way to help me, and even prayed for me on the phone. She was the only one who seemed to care.
If you're ever in this situation, be proactive. Be your own advocate and make those phone calls. During the four weeks that I had to wait to get my tests done, my left breast had time to change. The lump(s) had grown. They were now easily seen without having to point them out, as the one on top protrudes out the side of my left breast. The whole area visually looks different now.
When you're in this situation, you just want treatment to start, so that it can finish.
Mom and I went to meet the specialist together. This is where we would find out what my treatment would be and what the next step was.
My specialist was highly recommended by several doctors in the area so I felt confident in her even before meeting her. When she walked in and begun to speak, I felt even more at ease. She was very nice AND has an English accent of sort and that makes everything sound better. Even the word Cancer sounds better with an accent. It just does.
She didn't waste much time, which was nice, we got right down to business. We talked about family history and how my mother and grandmother, and great grandmother, all had to deal with breast cancer before me.
I would need to have a double mastectomy and be treated with chemotherapy. The treatment decision was made easy with the fact that I had family history and I didn't have to worry about hurting any reproduction organs, since mine didn't cooperate much anyway.
Dr. O'Neill thought I would have surgery first, and then chemo afterwards. I think this was based on knowing already that the double mastectomy was the plan. The final decision would be based on some test results that I would need to have.
And that was the next step - scheduling three different tests: a PET scan, an MRI and genetic testing blood work.
Let me tell you, my frustration and stress was high on these tests. No one cares about the timing of these things and the fact that you have a life threatening disease and you can't get treatment until these tests are complete. After weeks of waiting, I had to put the hammer down, put on my sassy pants and start calling everyone to the point of annoyance. I annoyed the specialists office until they faxed over the referrals again. Then I called the imaging centers and diagnostic center everyday after that. And I even then ruthlessly emailed my healthcare advocate at my insurance company for help. And actually, my healthcare advocate was the only one who seemed to care. She went out of her way to help me, and even prayed for me on the phone. She was the only one who seemed to care.
If you're ever in this situation, be proactive. Be your own advocate and make those phone calls. During the four weeks that I had to wait to get my tests done, my left breast had time to change. The lump(s) had grown. They were now easily seen without having to point them out, as the one on top protrudes out the side of my left breast. The whole area visually looks different now.
When you're in this situation, you just want treatment to start, so that it can finish.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
The Biopsy
November 3, 2016
The biopsy was pretty painless.
Mom drove me since we weren't sure exactly how I'd feel afterward.
I didn't really feel anything. All I can say is that if you've never had a biopsy on your breast, don't ask to look at the tools! They are much scarier looking than actual process.
My highlight of this procedure was the doctor talking to me like I was much younger than I am, and then realizing it and apologizing saying "Oh my goodness, I thought you were much younger." I, of course, will never complain about someone thinking I'm younger than I am.
The actual procedure consisted of me on the table, on my side, arm over my head. And then the doctor used a tool to retract tissue from the cancerous area. The worst part was a loud clicking sound the tool made. It sounded much like a staple gun. That sounds scary, but other than a little pressure, I really didn't feel anything. A definite zero on the pain.
After this, they needed to do another mammogram. This was more of a half mammogram where they carefully only checked part of the breast. Less squashing than a normal exam.
And that was it.
While I was waiting to be excused, I sat next to another woman there. Both of us sitting in our ultra stylish hospital gowns. Her legs were jittery and she looked nervous. I told her I just had a biopsy, and it was much easier than I had imagined. She smiled at me, and said this was her first biopsy. I told her not to worry, there's no pain and it's super quick. The nurse then excused me and I looked back at the woman and told her good luck.
And that was it. My doctors office would call a few days later to confirm that the cancer was there and then a referral was sent to a breast cancer specialist and I just had to wait for them to call me.
The biopsy was pretty painless.
Mom drove me since we weren't sure exactly how I'd feel afterward.
I didn't really feel anything. All I can say is that if you've never had a biopsy on your breast, don't ask to look at the tools! They are much scarier looking than actual process.
My highlight of this procedure was the doctor talking to me like I was much younger than I am, and then realizing it and apologizing saying "Oh my goodness, I thought you were much younger." I, of course, will never complain about someone thinking I'm younger than I am.
The actual procedure consisted of me on the table, on my side, arm over my head. And then the doctor used a tool to retract tissue from the cancerous area. The worst part was a loud clicking sound the tool made. It sounded much like a staple gun. That sounds scary, but other than a little pressure, I really didn't feel anything. A definite zero on the pain.
After this, they needed to do another mammogram. This was more of a half mammogram where they carefully only checked part of the breast. Less squashing than a normal exam.
And that was it.
While I was waiting to be excused, I sat next to another woman there. Both of us sitting in our ultra stylish hospital gowns. Her legs were jittery and she looked nervous. I told her I just had a biopsy, and it was much easier than I had imagined. She smiled at me, and said this was her first biopsy. I told her not to worry, there's no pain and it's super quick. The nurse then excused me and I looked back at the woman and told her good luck.
And that was it. My doctors office would call a few days later to confirm that the cancer was there and then a referral was sent to a breast cancer specialist and I just had to wait for them to call me.
Monday, January 2, 2017
The Diagnosis
October 27th, 2016
When I had left the imaging center the day before, I didn't expect to hear anything for about a week. This wasn't the case.
I was preparing my classroom, around 7:00 am, and having a good morning. I walked out of the room to make copies, happy that there was paper available. Upon returning to my room, I noticed I missed a call and there was a message for me.
The message was from the my gynecologists office. Her secretary said Dr. Tack wanted to see me as soon as I could come in.
That was it. I knew it right then and there. I texted my mom immediately. I text my ex-husband immediately. I already knew. There was no other reason that my doctor would call me that early in the morning and want to see me the day after my exam unless it was something big. Something like the C word.
Of course, being a teacher, I couldn't just leave work so I had to put a smile on and continue my day as though I wasn't about to be told I have cancer. It was a long day.
When I finally got to the office, about 3:30, I didn't have to wait in the waiting room long. And when the nurse was bringing me back and asked me how I was doing, I told her to ask me on my way out.
Dr. Tack didn't waste anytime. One of the reasons that I liked her so much was that she was always straight to the point. She looked at me and said "It's breast cancer."
I said, "I know." And I said, "My mom is going to be really sad." Because that's the first thing I thought about.
Dr. Tack was mad. She was angry because she knew we were watching it and being proactive. Unfortunately, the cancer actually snuck up behind the two cyst that we were watching. I reassured her that she and I both did everything, it just happened. I thought about it afterward, the irony of me reassuring my doctor.
When I got to the car, I called my mother, and I cried. I then called my ex husband, who has always been my biggest supporter and always knew my fear. And I cried to him. I drove home half crying, half dazed. I texted my best friend as soon as I got home but had to gather myself before I could speak again.
The next step was to get a biopsy to confirm what we already knew. And so began my journey, my walk with the C word.
When I had left the imaging center the day before, I didn't expect to hear anything for about a week. This wasn't the case.
I was preparing my classroom, around 7:00 am, and having a good morning. I walked out of the room to make copies, happy that there was paper available. Upon returning to my room, I noticed I missed a call and there was a message for me.
The message was from the my gynecologists office. Her secretary said Dr. Tack wanted to see me as soon as I could come in.
That was it. I knew it right then and there. I texted my mom immediately. I text my ex-husband immediately. I already knew. There was no other reason that my doctor would call me that early in the morning and want to see me the day after my exam unless it was something big. Something like the C word.
Of course, being a teacher, I couldn't just leave work so I had to put a smile on and continue my day as though I wasn't about to be told I have cancer. It was a long day.
When I finally got to the office, about 3:30, I didn't have to wait in the waiting room long. And when the nurse was bringing me back and asked me how I was doing, I told her to ask me on my way out.
Dr. Tack didn't waste anytime. One of the reasons that I liked her so much was that she was always straight to the point. She looked at me and said "It's breast cancer."
I said, "I know." And I said, "My mom is going to be really sad." Because that's the first thing I thought about.
Dr. Tack was mad. She was angry because she knew we were watching it and being proactive. Unfortunately, the cancer actually snuck up behind the two cyst that we were watching. I reassured her that she and I both did everything, it just happened. I thought about it afterward, the irony of me reassuring my doctor.
When I got to the car, I called my mother, and I cried. I then called my ex husband, who has always been my biggest supporter and always knew my fear. And I cried to him. I drove home half crying, half dazed. I texted my best friend as soon as I got home but had to gather myself before I could speak again.
The next step was to get a biopsy to confirm what we already knew. And so began my journey, my walk with the C word.
Sunday, January 1, 2017
The Tracking
October 27, 2016
They warn you about checking your breasts for lumps. They nag you about it, and yet many woman don't check themselves on a regular basis. You're supposed to get your first mammogram when you're 40 and then every year after that. Many woman also don't do this. They put it off because the reality is that having your boobs squashed in a mammogram machine isn't really that appealing.
I wasn't one of those woman. I had my first mammogram when I was about 20. Breast cancer ran in my family so being checked early and regularly was a priority.
Throughout my 20's and 30's, I had several lumps and cyst found, drained, and watched. They were always nothing. I came to be quite comfortable going through the steps of having mammograms, small scares, walking into the cancer specialists office. There was a time when I got nervous every time they found something, but then it became so regular that I stopped thinking about it.
Until recently, that is. Well over a year ago, there was a cyst on the left side. They drained it and it came back. They said it was nothing. I made it my job to keep an eye on it. Instead of going in every year, I was now checking it every 6 months. Shortly after one of these check-ups that area started to hurt, I could swear the cyst got larger, and it felt like there were now two lumps. They're not supposed to hurt, at least they never hurt before. I knew I needed to go back in.
Thanks to insurance, this took longer than I wanted. First you have to make an appointment with the doctor and then get a referral for the mammogram, and then make the appointment with the imaging center. By the time I got my appointment that left side was super tender, with sharp pains every now and then, and I often couldn't even sleep on that side.
I had a mammogram and an ultrasound. The techs aren't allowed to tell you anything. I remember laying there during my ultrasound, arm draped over my head, quickly losing circulation, and trying to shift my eyes over my head to view the ultrasound machine. When that didn't work, I just tried to analyze the facial expression of the tech. She gave nothing away. It was all business, she didn't even talk except for when she was scolding me for wiggling my arm around too much.
And that was it. I was sent home expecting the normal wait time of 7-10 business days to get the results.
I would soon find out that I was wrong.
They warn you about checking your breasts for lumps. They nag you about it, and yet many woman don't check themselves on a regular basis. You're supposed to get your first mammogram when you're 40 and then every year after that. Many woman also don't do this. They put it off because the reality is that having your boobs squashed in a mammogram machine isn't really that appealing.
I wasn't one of those woman. I had my first mammogram when I was about 20. Breast cancer ran in my family so being checked early and regularly was a priority.
Throughout my 20's and 30's, I had several lumps and cyst found, drained, and watched. They were always nothing. I came to be quite comfortable going through the steps of having mammograms, small scares, walking into the cancer specialists office. There was a time when I got nervous every time they found something, but then it became so regular that I stopped thinking about it.
Until recently, that is. Well over a year ago, there was a cyst on the left side. They drained it and it came back. They said it was nothing. I made it my job to keep an eye on it. Instead of going in every year, I was now checking it every 6 months. Shortly after one of these check-ups that area started to hurt, I could swear the cyst got larger, and it felt like there were now two lumps. They're not supposed to hurt, at least they never hurt before. I knew I needed to go back in.
Thanks to insurance, this took longer than I wanted. First you have to make an appointment with the doctor and then get a referral for the mammogram, and then make the appointment with the imaging center. By the time I got my appointment that left side was super tender, with sharp pains every now and then, and I often couldn't even sleep on that side.
I had a mammogram and an ultrasound. The techs aren't allowed to tell you anything. I remember laying there during my ultrasound, arm draped over my head, quickly losing circulation, and trying to shift my eyes over my head to view the ultrasound machine. When that didn't work, I just tried to analyze the facial expression of the tech. She gave nothing away. It was all business, she didn't even talk except for when she was scolding me for wiggling my arm around too much.
And that was it. I was sent home expecting the normal wait time of 7-10 business days to get the results.
I would soon find out that I was wrong.
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