Happy Birthday Mac!

I haven’t posted here for a while which means one thing – there isn’t any news to report.  Which is totally awesome.

However - Today is my sister’s 43rd birthday.

That’s right, the sister that I said I have always looked up to, loved and supported no matter what.  (I’m the youngest – so that really could describe any one of my sisters…but this time I’m talking about Mac.)

I called her this morning.  We had a great chat, like we always do – and the topic came around to what she wanted for her birthday.  She directed me to her Facebook page where I found this post (after searching through all the millions of Happy Birthday messages…sheesh!  I had no idea my sister was that popular!):

I'm sure that most of you have noticed that your favorite football teams
have been wearing my favorite color pink! I would like to think that
they were doing it for me and in a way they are! This month is breast
cancer awareness month!

I urge each and every one of you to force your female loved ones to do monthly exams and if they are over 40 to have yearly mammogram! Today is my 43rd birthday and I am so grateful that I'm here to hear all of the "over the hill" jokes! The last 2 years I have been cancer free! I am going to ask one more thing of you all… sometime this month wear PINK and buy something with a pink ribbon on it! Support all the brave women that are fighting this crappy disease!

I had to post this here.  Two reasons – she’s a survivor, and even though my lumpy and lumpy jr. were benign – I am too.  So – I promise this, sis – I will wear Pink, I will buy a Pink Ribbon product, and I will always – ALWAYS support all the brave women that are fighting this crappy disease, as well as those who looked it in the eye and said, NOT ME…NOT THIS TIME…I’m going to SURVIVE this thing…and did.

I love you Mac!  Here’s to at least 43 more awesome years!

Post Op

Okay, just because my lima bean was benign doesn’t mean that is the end of this blog.

Together. We. Can. Make. A. Difference.

Besides, I’m sure you want to hear all about my exciting post op appointment with Doc Smith.

You do?

Well then what am I waiting for?

First things first – when I originally saw Doc Smith at the hospital I told him that I had planned to make him a Bears (DA Bears!) scrub cap for luck – but unfortunately I couldn’t find a good pattern for boy doctor hats (I found lots of girl doctor hats – bouffant and other styles, but nothing suitable for a boy doctor…)  Anyway, he was disappointed.  He said if I made one he’d totally wear it.

Don’t ever tell me I have free reign to do a craft.

Of course I found a pattern and made him one which I delivered at my post op appointment.

He liked it.  He liked it a lot.

(And if he didn’t he played it off really really well…)

Anyway – first thing Doc said to me…

“How did you like the artwork I left you?”

Seriously, this doctor is hilarious.

Once the pleasantries were exchanged he looked at the incision and decided it was healing very nicely.

“Nobody will ever even see the scar.”

You bet they won’t!!! (not even if you ask nicely…sorry guys.)

So, mammogram in 6 months for follow up…and – a lump check in four weeks.

You got it, they found another one.  But no worries, according to Doc Smith, it feels totally benign and this one we will just watch and see.

But if it starts to bother me call him and we’ll take a closer look sooner.

Deal.

Benign.

That’s right.

After some serious prodding by my sister – I decided to call Doc Smith and talk to my second favorite nurse, Dee. 

The exact words were that “The pathology results came back and they looked absolutely perfect.”

I still have a surgical follow up in a few days and will continue to monitor the “area.” I know better than to let that go for too long – at least I do now.

I know it’s weird, but I didn’t instantly feel relieved.  I’m still sort of in a haze with all of this.

BUT

It’s benign.  I’m happy.  My husband is happy.  My family is happy.  We can move on.

Period.

A Coin Flip.

There’s a reason I never liked to gamble. 

Part of it is because of the whole I don’t do that kind of thing – thing…but the other part is I’m kindof a control freak.  I don’t like to play games that I can’t have some minor control over the situation.

That’s why I’ve never liked “Heads or Tails” to make a decision.  It’s always left up to luck.  I don’t like luck.  I can’t control it.

Doc Smith called yesterday, and since he didn’t get a chance to talk to Ammon he wanted to let us know his impressions of Lumpy and Lumpy Jr.
 
“It’s a coin flip.”

Those are his exact words.  He went on to explain he didn’t feel comfortable saying they were or were not.  He simply had no feeling either way.

Okay, so heads they are sinister twins, tails annoying neighbors.  We have to wait for full pathology.

Time will tell.

I call tails.

Removal

Well, it’s gone.  Little lumpy is no longer a part of my body or my life.

And I’m not the slightest bit sad about it.

Yesterday started out pretty normal – with the exception of the fact that Ammon was home on a weekday – which is always nice.  I had to be to the hospital by 9:30 AM for check in and the surgery was scheduled at 11:30.  I had no idea why there was a 2 hour check in time – seemed a little odd to me, but whatever.  I later found out that they had over 80 people on their schedule for that day – well not my doc, but the entire hospital.  That’s super crazy. (according to my Nurse Estelle anyway).

When we got there they handed us one of those restaurant waiting pagers.  You know the ones you get at places like The Outback and The Cheesecake Factory – the little black square that lights up red when your table is ready?  Ammon and I thought this was clever, but cruel.  I mean, I am not allowed to eat ANYTHING, and now the only thing I’m thinking about is an awesome blossom  and a slice of cheesecake.  Sort of a Pavlovs Dogs response to the pager I think.  At any rate, we sat down and about ten minutes later it went off and I got to go fill out paperwork.

Love the paperwork…and the fact that I had to fill the same paperwork about five times before they actually put me under.  I suppose they want to make sure I give the same answers…

Pre-op prep went quickly.  I had four nurses who were absolutely amazing, hilarious – and oddly enough, shared my same love and complete devotion for Target Stores.  (Who doesn’t???)

Doc came in and signed my boob – because apparently they didn’t want to forget which one – located the lump and circled it…then located a second lump and circled it too…yep a second lump, right next to the first.  Lumpy and Lumpy Jr.  Fabulous. 

The doctor and nurses make me take out my contact lenses, start an IV and the Anesthesiologist comes in and takes a look down my throat.  (Later we realized this should have been a clue that I’d have breathing tube shoved down there…but it wasn’t readily apparent to either my husband or I that this was the case.)

They finally come in to take me away (ha ha ho ho) and we’re off.  I meet up with the surgeon (Doc. Smith) and the anesthesiologist in the OR with Estelle, my fabulous nurse.  Doc Smith waves at me from across the room.  I inform him that I am no longer blessed with the gift of sight and he’s going to have to make bigger movements than that.  Next think I know, he’s two inches from my face with his eyes bugged out of his face saying “Is that better?”  I respond “Much – thank you.”  Have I told you how good this doc is at putting me at ease???

They start to give me oxygen, make me recite my full name, doc’s name and surgery type…and then let me know that they are going to give me something to relax (because I’m obviously so stressed out as indicated by the constant jokes being thrown around and laughter…and it wasn’t just me)  At this point they start to read back my paperwork - “You are allergic to chocolate and Morphine”  I tell them that is correct …  Doc then asks - “anything else?”  Yes, as a matter of fact, Stupid People.  At this point doc turns around and changes the song that’s playing on his CD…”Everybody Knows, That The World is Full Of Stupid People” by the Refreshments.  I am sooo in love with this Doc – awesome tunes, and A Bears fan.  Then anesthesia doc tells me that they are going to give me the medication that will make me sleep – he says “It’s gonna burn in the hand a bit…” 

K, here’s where I tell you I went to a few years of nursing school.  Part of this was anatomy classes.  What happened next was not a burning sensation in my hand – rather my face.  It was on fire.  Seriously – like when you burn yourself on the heating element in the oven or by touching a hot pan and then a few hours later expose said burn to hot water…that kind of sensation.  I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t my hand that was burning – and that’s the last thing I remember until waking up in recovery – two and one half hours later.

I remember the nurses talking back and forth – apparently they couldn’t find my husband…they called his cell phone and he was in the waiting room – but it was the wrong one.  There are apparently two waiting rooms, and the one he was in (you know, the one closest to the OR) wasn’t the correct one.  Doc Smith went looking for him, but couldn’t find him – so he never actually spoke to the Doc.  All we know at this point is that I woke up, and he took me home.  Not even any care instructions for the wound – nothin’.  Nada. Zilch.  So we are left to our own devices.  Luckily we have a good deal of common sense.

The paperwork we DID get does say that I can shower in T days…whatever that means.  I’m thinking it means I can shower on days that start with T…so today is Thursday, I’m going with that.  The hospital promised to call today and follow up with me.  And with the kind of doc that Doc Smith is, I’m pretty sure that since he didn’t get to talk to Ammon he’ll probably call as well- or at least have my second favorite nurse Dee call.  I also expect  a call from my favorite nurse Jan.  I expect to be pretty popular today.

We should have results in the next few days on whether Lumpy and Lumpy Jr. are sinister twins or simply annoying neighbors.  We’re still going with the mantra – It’s going to be benign.  Period.

It’s Going To Be Benign.

My sister and I have a plan of attack on this little lima bean.  The treatment plan is basically this – every morning, I tell the lump that it’s benign and that this is going to be a routine surgery.

I keep telling it that. 

At some point in my life I was told that if you say something enough times you’ll start to believe it.

I’m still waiting for that to happen.

I know it’s an irrational fear.  We have no idea what this thing is.  It is going to be nothing, benign – something of no consequence…but something inside of me continues to think about the “what if” possibilities.

If you know me, you know this is exactly what I do.  I worry about the worst case scenario – always.  For example, we were out shopping once and one of my kids wandered off…she was just in the next aisle over – but my heart immediately left my chest and my thoughts immediately jumped to the “what would I do” scenario.

That’s what keeps happening with this.  I’m scared.  I shouldn’t be – I don’t have enough information to be scared…but that’s what makes it worse.  I don’t have the information.  Knowledge is power – and right now the lack of knowledge has a terrible power over me.

I’m seriously okay.  I have my moments of insecurity and fear – but there are more moments of feeling like this is going to be a nothing – a blip in the radar of my life.

It’s going to be benign.  Period.

Where Much is Given…

I’ve had a few people ask me why I’m writing this blog when I have no idea of the actual outcome of these events.  Here’s the simple answer: I write when I’m stressed.  It’s my way of coping.  I have no idea how this is all going to turn out.  Writing is my therapy.

I suppose it all goes a little bit deeper than that though.  I just had an amazing conversation with a friend of mine (through the magic of Facebook, of course) that brought me to another realization, this blog is more than just my therapy – it is possible someone else might read this and find a little bit of comfort in their own situation.

Okay, so I know that sounds arrogant.  I’m not proposing that I’m trying to heal the world through my writing.  However I do believe that everything that happens is another opportunity to learn, to grow and to share.  I was told many years ago that I would be able to help others through difficult situations simply by being me.  This blog is definitely me.  It is my most intimate thoughts and feelings, fears of the unknown and looks into the bright side of life.  I intend to learn much from this experience and use that knowledge however possible.

One of my favorite scriptures (yes, I’m going to the scriptures now – I tend to do that when I’m looking for answers, solace, am confused or lonely, and even when I simply want something to do to pass the time…I could choose worse activities don’t ya think?) is in the Doctrine and Covenants 82:1-3.

  1 Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;

  2 Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.

  3 Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.

Fear Not. Prayers. Promise. Work Together For Your Good.

Regardless of the situation, that is all I need to know.  He is with me.  He knows I have fears and trials, but He promises that it will all work for my good.  He knows what my “good” is.  I don’t.  And that’s okay.  My job is to learn from these experiences and share what I’ve learned or use what I’ve learned to better understand and have empathy for others.  He will handle the rest.  So I will continue to write.  If anything, I’ve chronicled my experiences for our family history.  I can pull this out when I’m ninety and say – I was there once, and this is what I learned.

Scheduled.

Dee (my second favorite nurse) called today.  We have a date.

Funny.  I always considered dates to be fun things – movies, dinner, maybe a little dancing…but ya know, IV’s, operating tables and a few hours sleep is good too.  Heck, I’m a mom, I’ll take what I can get.

I’ll be checking into the hospital on Wednesday.  Surgery is at 11:30, so no food or drink after 3:30 AM.  The only question now is – anyone up for a Wendy’s run at midnight on Tuesday?  I hear their drive through is open until 1 AM.

I'm Not A Wait and See Person...Neither is My Doc.

Today I met with the surgeon.  He's a great guy.  Awesome sense of humor.  Oh, and he's a Bears fan, so he can't be all that bad of a person can he?

The first thing I liked about this guy - okay, second (the first being that he's a Bears fan...did I mention that???) is this - he took the time to read the mammo and ultrasound results with me.  He didn't review them in his office, he looked them over with me, in the room.  He explained what he was looking for, he showed me the difference in dense and non dense tissue, he showed me what was bone and what was tissue.  He was very understanding of my non-knowledge on this subject and willing to teach and take the time.

He also had a great sense of humor.  I love a doctor that can take something potentially terrifying and put you at total ease.  I remember when I was giving birth to my first child - the doctor broke into his impression of the Moose brothers from Brother Bear.  His terrible Canadian accent and dumb jokes put me at ease.  That's completely what this doctor did for me.

After the reading of the films he told me he'd do an exam and feel for this lima bean himself.  (For the record, he's the one that said calling this lump a lima bean was perfect because nobody likes lima beans)  I gave him a brief description of where it was, how it felt etc, and it wasn't long before he found our little "lumpy."

A brief - what I can only call "mapping" of the area, a short look at his nurse and he says -go ahead and get dressed and we'll talk.

I laughed - He laughed and left the room.

A few minutes later, he came back in, and announced "You have a breast lump."

"Yep, sure do."  What else am I going to say?

"We can do one of two things" - he says.

"We can wait and see, take a watch and see approach, or we can take it out.  Taking it out is my proposal.  It's up to you.  Whatever you want - and a perfectly good reason to have it taken out is just that you don't want to worry about it - but I do reccomend removal."

I'm not a wait and see person.  Not to mention, if it could ever possibly be anything potentially deadly - I don't play around with it.  I think this lesson came from my parents always teaching me never to play with matches or something.

"When we do take it out it'll come back one of three ways - benign, benign with elevated risk, or precancer/cancer.  If it's the latter of the three, we'll meet immediately, set up our war room and hammer out a treatment plan that will work for you.  These things are as individual as the people themselves there is no cookie cutter treatment.  We will find what we can to work for you.  If it's the second category - we'll discuss it at your post op visit.  If it's the first category - we'll call you and say It's nothing, you are good."

I'm willing to take it out.  He says great - we'll get you scheduled for next week.

More sense of urgency.  Or is it caution?

Sometimes Nothing is Something

I got a call from my favorite nurse Jan today.  It seems the Doc got the report of my mammo and ultrasound, and doesn't like the results.

I'm a bit confused - I was elated with the results.  For the first time in my life, I'm normal - that sounded good to me.

Something about my age and number of children I've had combined with my small bust size - she's worried that we didn't get a clear picture.

Okay.  Fine.  So now what, an MRI?

No.  That's not her plan.  She'd felt the lump.  She consulted with the radiologist and nurse that felt it at the Mammogram screening.  All were in agreement - this needed further investigation.

Apparently I have lump that is camera shy.

As a mother of five, I know you don't force someone to do something they don't want to do.  This lump has no desire to be photographed.  So we go to plan B...meet with a surgeon.

Jan gave me three numbers and told me to let her know when I made the appointment.  I didn't have to call her back though, within an hour she was calling me to be sure I'd called.

Yes, I have an appointment - it'll be Wednesday at 2:45. 

She promised to follow up with me on Thursday.  I don't doubt that she will.

Medical Opinions

The first doctor to actually feel this thing was my GYN.  As I've said before, she is cautious.  I love this about my doctors they take the time, they expend the energy - and they are very, very thorough.  She took time with me - she explained her concerns and let me know why they were being so aggressive.


Genetics.

With a sister that has once been through this whole she-bang...that puts me at a higher risk.

I have always wanted to be like my older sister...

Doc told me two things - it could be a fibroid or it could be not a fibroid.

Good to know, thanks.

Off to the mammo.

Now, if you've not done a mammo before, shame on you - and lucky you, all at the same time.  The first thing (and most prominent thing) that made me the most uncomfortable about this...it was NOT the fact that my breast was being squished between to hard plastic sheets.  Nor was it the fact that I was naked from the waist up in a tiny room with one other person whom I've only just met...

No.

It was the fact that I was not allowed to wear deoderant for the exam.  Um Helllllooooooo - we live in Phoenix.  It's June.  It's stinkin' hot.  And now I get to be stinkin' too.  Yay.

Aside from the deodorant thing, the mammo was everything I've come to expect from the stories I've been told.  I still firmly believe that a man designed this thing.  I've also got a redesign in mind for the method for checking for testicular cancer...just sayin'.

After the mammo we moved to ultrasound.  I've done these before - just normally not on my chest.  Good news - there was no heartbeat other than mine.

Once the ultrasound was done, the radiologist read the film.  The result?

Normal.  Completely normal.

Scare Tactics

I'd like to say that finding this anomaly was enough to scare me right into a doctors office.  It wasn't.  Honestly, I didn't think much of it.  My husband and I had even tossed a few jokes back and forth - "Ya know, if they have to take it out, maybe while they are in there they can bring me up a cup size" and "Finally!  They're Growing!"  I really thought not much of it.

I did call my sister.  For one thing - I love her and I like to talk to her.  For another - she's had some experience with this whole lump finding thing.  Two malignant tumors removed and several benign ones, our family's been down this whole breast lump discovery and fear road before.  (It has to be noted here that my sister is 11 years older than I am, but wasn't much older than I am when her first tumor was found and removed).  She filled me in on her history.  Not just lumps - full blown cancer.  Lots and lots of benign tumors removed (15 I believe) and several fibroid edemas.  I took in the info and filed it into the "this could be useful later" file and then we started talking about sports and boys and politics (IE - our husbands).

I had an appointment scheduled with my GYN this week anyway, and when they called to confirm she asked me, "Is there anything else (other than the yearly torture session we plan to put you thru) that you have of concern for your doc?" 

Well....I did find this lump.


Any history of Breast Cancer in your family?

As a matter of fact...my sister...

Doc is going to want to see you as soon as possible.  When can you  come in?

Um...okay.

I suppose that is when I started to look at this thing a little more seriously.  Before I knew it my yearly torture session was canceled and moved to August and I had an appointment for a breast exam as well as a mammogram and an ultrasound.  The breast exam would be in one day, and the mammo in three weeks.  It was the first available appointment for that exam.  The nurse called me back two hours later to confirm I'd made the mammo appointment.  I told her yes, June 17.  She says...I'll call you back.

And she did.  Several times.  First she had an appointment on the 12th, then the 8th.  The 8th at three, the 8th at noon...can you be there by 10?

Before I know it she's got me scheduled for a mammo the same day as my appointment with my GYN  (I'm not sure how she pulled those strings or what she did-but I wasn't able to find anything in the valley THAT quickly.) 

So off to the appointments I went.  I can't say I was scared yet - I'm still not - but cautious, yes, cautious is a good word for how I feel.

Discovery

I've never been one to do monthly breast exams.  To be honest, this wasn't even a normal breast exam - it was more of a - "hey, I'm laying down resting comfortably watching TV - now is as good a time as any to check out this whole self-exam thing."

That's right.  This exam was borne of pure boredom.

I started by making circular motions with my fingers - first the right, then the left.  My husband watched me with a quizzical look on his face - he'd never seen one done before either, but he was supportive in my efforts (at least, I think that was support...)

I didn't really feel anything strange or unusual - and then I remembered seeing on a bathroom poster on how to do breast self exams in a Target bathroom that you are supposed to put one arm above your head and use the other hand to do the exam.

Everything you read in a Target bathroom has got to be correct, right?  I mean, afterall they do have the "Employees must wash hands before returning to work" sign along with the "Shoplifters will be prosecuted"  I assumed this breast self exam poster must be correct as well.

Ok, in the air it goes - first the right arm...still not sure what to feel for - but decide there is nothing of any excitement there.  (And really, if you knew me...there was absolutely NO excitement on either side of the exam table - if you know what I mean...)

Now left...

I wasn't really sure at first that I felt anything.  I put the right arm back in the air - felt in the same place on the right side - nope...nothing there.  Back to the left. 

It was definitely there.  Small.  Hard-ish.  About the size of a pea, but lima bean shaped (later my doctor told me this was appropriate to call it a lima bean...because NOBODY likes lima beans either.)

I asked my husband to give me his opinion.  (And, you see, it's okay that he went ahead and felt for it...we're married.)  I said - "Do you feel that?" and his response was "Well sure - I think so."

That was it.  It was discovered.  The small little lump in my left breast.