Ambiguous, as always:
Dear Ms. Home:
Your MRI breast w wo contrast bilateral performed on May 22, 2013, shows the need for further evaluation. The Radiologist has recommended a right breast follow-up diagnostic mammogram.
My guess is that there's LCIS in the right breast as well. And since it doesn't show on a mammogram, this will be another exercise in futility. This whole business is tedious. I can see why people might ignore their health issues.
“I don't think you're dying," I said. "I think you've just got a touch of cancer.” ― John Green
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Everyday I'm shufflin'
I had the MRI last Wednesday. No results yet. It's not like on TV were they show you immediately after.* I'll discuss the results with Dr. Wilson in a couple of weeks.
I didn't realize that I was going to have to be injected with something.** If I have to have anything done involving my veins, I prep for it by drinking a lot of water the night before, as well as possibly work out a little. My veins are very tiny, and as such, the nurse had to make 4 attempts before getting one to work out. But that was the worst part of it. And the nurse was really nice, so I don't fault her for my teeny tiny veins. She asked the technician if we needed the injection, and the technician responded, "Yes. It's the money shot."
After that response, I was kind of in love with the technician. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good sense of humor. She helped me into the tube - face down with boobs in holes, face in a hole, arms above head, like a massage table. I imagine that because I was face down, it didn't feel as claustrophobic as it could have.
I had ear plugs in, and giant headphones on. The technician talked me through every test, but first she tested the mic to be sure that I could hear her. She let me know that she'd be playing some "soft rock". So this is the first line I hear: "I've got a bad disease". Um, maybe not the first line you want to hear when in this situation.
Fortunately the next song was Party Rock Anthem. Except that it made me want to dance. No dancing allowed in the tube. Boo.
In other news - I thought I may as well make some money to fight cancer, so here's my Team in Training fundraising link: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/nikesf13/mhomet
*Why can't life be more like TV?
** "something" was gadolinium. Rare earth element. Kind of cool.
I didn't realize that I was going to have to be injected with something.** If I have to have anything done involving my veins, I prep for it by drinking a lot of water the night before, as well as possibly work out a little. My veins are very tiny, and as such, the nurse had to make 4 attempts before getting one to work out. But that was the worst part of it. And the nurse was really nice, so I don't fault her for my teeny tiny veins. She asked the technician if we needed the injection, and the technician responded, "Yes. It's the money shot."
After that response, I was kind of in love with the technician. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good sense of humor. She helped me into the tube - face down with boobs in holes, face in a hole, arms above head, like a massage table. I imagine that because I was face down, it didn't feel as claustrophobic as it could have.
I had ear plugs in, and giant headphones on. The technician talked me through every test, but first she tested the mic to be sure that I could hear her. She let me know that she'd be playing some "soft rock". So this is the first line I hear: "I've got a bad disease". Um, maybe not the first line you want to hear when in this situation.
Fortunately the next song was Party Rock Anthem. Except that it made me want to dance. No dancing allowed in the tube. Boo.
In other news - I thought I may as well make some money to fight cancer, so here's my Team in Training fundraising link: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/nikesf13/mhomet
*Why can't life be more like TV?
** "something" was gadolinium. Rare earth element. Kind of cool.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Interesting Read
This is a great article about DCIS. It's not the same about LCIS, but it applies:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/28/magazine/our-feel-good-war-on-breast-cancer.html?pagewanted=all
MRI is scheduled for next week.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/28/magazine/our-feel-good-war-on-breast-cancer.html?pagewanted=all
MRI is scheduled for next week.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Now With Twice the Options!
I met with my Oncologist today.* Weird. I have an Oncologist.** Byron Wilson, M.D., not to be confused with Brian Wilson. Alan and I liked him very much. Perhaps I liked him more because he said that I have nice breasts (not in a creepy way). Anyhooo ... I am sure you'd like some actual information here. You don't just stop by for a giggle. It's not all boobie tassels.
Dr. Wilson expanded the options:
1) Do nothing. Walk away and pretend this never happened. I might just get away with it. (Not recommended)
2) Close surveillance. MRI followed by a Mammogram six months later, and self exams
3) Start taking Tamoxifen as well as close surveillance
4) Bi-lateral Mastectomy
He explained so much more about LCIS. It was more than I could find online or in books. It's not as scary as I thought. You hear the word "cancer" and you naturally have a bad reaction.
I have plenty of time to make a decision, and not to worry, I will not choose option 1.
My next step is to have an MRI, which should happen the end of May. I will also be seeing a genetic counselor. I did the 23andme.com genetic testing, which showed I don't have the BRCA gene, but Dr. Byron would like to confirm this.
Thanks for checking in! It's nice to have some somewhat good news on what has been a difficult week.
*My mom was supposed to visit her Oncologist today too.
**My mom could never say "Oncologist". She always put in an extra "o": "OnOcologist". Or she'd just say "Cancer Doctor."
Dr. Wilson expanded the options:
1) Do nothing. Walk away and pretend this never happened. I might just get away with it. (Not recommended)
2) Close surveillance. MRI followed by a Mammogram six months later, and self exams
3) Start taking Tamoxifen as well as close surveillance
4) Bi-lateral Mastectomy
He explained so much more about LCIS. It was more than I could find online or in books. It's not as scary as I thought. You hear the word "cancer" and you naturally have a bad reaction.
I have plenty of time to make a decision, and not to worry, I will not choose option 1.
My next step is to have an MRI, which should happen the end of May. I will also be seeing a genetic counselor. I did the 23andme.com genetic testing, which showed I don't have the BRCA gene, but Dr. Byron would like to confirm this.
Thanks for checking in! It's nice to have some somewhat good news on what has been a difficult week.
*My mom was supposed to visit her Oncologist today too.
**My mom could never say "Oncologist". She always put in an extra "o": "OnOcologist". Or she'd just say "Cancer Doctor."
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Side Tracked
I took a little break from processing everything and just didn't think about this for a week. Feels a bit like I was in a dream state.
Then this happened. My mom was in the hospital, being treated for pleural effusion. I was to call her Doctor this morning to find out next steps, but instead I got a call. Her heart had stopped. They tried for a long time to bring her back, but she was gone.
My mom would pray for me every day. I'm not a religious person, but now that she's gone, I miss that already - knowing that someone was praying for me. My heart is breaking. I don't care about my situation anymore. I just want my mom.
Then this happened. My mom was in the hospital, being treated for pleural effusion. I was to call her Doctor this morning to find out next steps, but instead I got a call. Her heart had stopped. They tried for a long time to bring her back, but she was gone.
My mom would pray for me every day. I'm not a religious person, but now that she's gone, I miss that already - knowing that someone was praying for me. My heart is breaking. I don't care about my situation anymore. I just want my mom.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
All or Nothing
You've got to ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?
Hoo Boy. Met with Dr. O'Holleran today. The tricky thing about having a rare cancer is that there's not a lot of research out there. What little research there is, points to the fact that every year with LCIS your chance of developing an invasive breast cancer increases.
Since I've had this cancer a bit longer than originally thought - probably a few years (it's slow moving, so how could more than half my breast have it, otherwise?) what are my odds? Do I have it in my right breast too? Maybe. Maybe not. Since it doesn't show up on mammograms the only way to know is to do a random lumpectomy or an MRI.
Next step is to talk to an oncologist. I have a referral and am waiting for a call back tomorrow to schedule a future appointment.
The options seem to be: 1) Do nothing. Hold my breath and hope that if I do get an invasive breast cancer that it is caught right away. 2) Bi-lateral mastectomy.
Other things I am considering: Get an MRI. Consult with a plastic surgeon re. breast reconstruction should I decide to go forward with a bi-lateral mastectomy.
Other things to ponder - if I do have a bi-lateral mastectomy followed by reconstruction, I can get tattoos for nipples. What amazing designs could I get? Alan has already nixed smiley faces and kittens. Harrumph.
Hoo Boy. Met with Dr. O'Holleran today. The tricky thing about having a rare cancer is that there's not a lot of research out there. What little research there is, points to the fact that every year with LCIS your chance of developing an invasive breast cancer increases.
Since I've had this cancer a bit longer than originally thought - probably a few years (it's slow moving, so how could more than half my breast have it, otherwise?) what are my odds? Do I have it in my right breast too? Maybe. Maybe not. Since it doesn't show up on mammograms the only way to know is to do a random lumpectomy or an MRI.
Next step is to talk to an oncologist. I have a referral and am waiting for a call back tomorrow to schedule a future appointment.
The options seem to be: 1) Do nothing. Hold my breath and hope that if I do get an invasive breast cancer that it is caught right away. 2) Bi-lateral mastectomy.
Other things I am considering: Get an MRI. Consult with a plastic surgeon re. breast reconstruction should I decide to go forward with a bi-lateral mastectomy.
Other things to ponder - if I do have a bi-lateral mastectomy followed by reconstruction, I can get tattoos for nipples. What amazing designs could I get? Alan has already nixed smiley faces and kittens. Harrumph.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Advice from those who have been there, done that
The thing about having done volunteer work with Team in Training is that I've met some AMAZING survivors, who have been through much worse than me. And they are giving me some pretty great advice. As I think of it, I'll post some of what they've said, because they could inspire anyone, not just me.
"It doesn't change who you are. It does not define you. Ultimately over time it will change how you think about yourself. It'll be another layer of who you are.
Keep your chin up. It's gonna be shitty for awhile. Try to smile and enjoy spring. Maybe buy a punching bag..."
-Susan
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